


The Wilds & The Weeds

by n0t_my_name



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, Romance, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Slow burn but really there will be like gratuitous amounts of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0t_my_name/pseuds/n0t_my_name
Summary: Dani Clayton, heiress to half of the Clayton Wingrave Mining Company fortune, is adopted and raised by the Wingrave family following a family tragedy. Years later, she and Edmund Wingrave return to the estate for their wedding. But there are secrets buried on the grounds of the Wingrave estate, secrets that are finally starting to unravel. There's also a gardener...
Relationships: Dani Clayton & Jamie, Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 208
Kudos: 388





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think fanfic is great but I never planned to write any. Then this show got under my skin and there's a pandemic and I figured maybe this would quell the lesbian spirits currently haunting my brain. This will probably be my first and only contribution to this site so I want to mention that I love reading stuff on here, you guys are great, and fuck yes for the amazing representation we got with this show.
> 
> Just a couple context points: Edmund and Judy are Wingraves. Miles and Flora are Claytons. It'll make sense, I promise.
> 
> Most of the story is already written. Will post more chapters very soon. Rated E for later chapters. Like I said I have lesbian spirits to quell.

**Then**  
  
The missing children were international news when they first disappeared. 

Some of the papers went as far as suggesting possible dubious business dealings were to blame—that it was a kidnap for ransom scenario, or maybe a disgruntled employee. Some coal miner crawled up from the ground, sick and bitter and looking for a bit of revenge. The local presses were more empathetic, calling it a national tragedy and wondering if perhaps the children simply wandered off, if maybe there’d been some sort of accident. But no matter which source was reporting, the core facts remained the same: 

**_Young Heirs to Clayton Wingrave_** **_Mining Company Missing_ **

Ten-year-old Miles and seven-year-old Flora were reported missing from the Clayton estate on the afternoon of June 11, 1970. The pair vanished after going to play by a small lake on the neighboring Wingrave property, but after several searches it’s been determined that they are not at the bottom of it. An exhaustive search of the grounds and manor of both the Clayton and Wingrave estates has been conducted and is expected to expand to include the rest of Bly as well as several neighboring villages. Miles and Flora Clayton are the youngest of coal tycoon James Clayton’s three children, and they were first reported missing by older brother Oliver Clayton and his friend Henry Wingrave, whose father, James Clayton’s neighbor and business partner Arthur Wingrave, is offering a $100,000 reward for the safe return of the children.

At first the searches were massive. Volunteers came from all over England. The adjoined gates of the neighboring Clayton and Wingrave estates became a shrine of sorts, locals and foreign busybodies alike came in droves to leave notes and stuffed toys, light candles and say prayers for the children. But in time, less people came. The searches grew farther apart until one day they stopped altogether. The missing posters faded and fell from the trees and windows where they’d been posted. There were other catastrophes, newer horrors for the media to exploit, and slowly the world’s attention turned away from the sleepy English village and its two missing children. With time, even those in Bly began to move on. The gossip at the local pub was less and less about the children. Slowly people forgot.

Quite a long time later James Clayton and Arthur Wingrave died and left their coal business to their sons, Oliver and Henry, who started their own families in the same neighboring estates they’d grown up in. Life went on, and eventually the day came when Miles and Flora Clayton were nothing more than a local ghost story. An unsolved mystery to pick apart over a pint at the pub. Nothing more than a faded memory.

** Now**

The ride out to the manor usually took an hour, give or take the conditions of the road, but that day it happened in minutes. Seconds, even. And the car didn’t get a flat or teleport back to London no matter how hard Dani wished for it.

Edmund and the driver were chattering away about this and that. It was only a matter of time before he brought up his mates coming over from the states for the bachelor party—he’d been finding ways to steer conversations in that direction for days. On the plane from Boston he’d managed to tell three flight attendants as well as the visibly disinterested man sitting to his left. It was all fine though. With his boyish exuberance consuming the attention of anyone with ears it let Dani off the hook—no one was asking any of the usual bride-to-be questions. No one seemed to notice the way she’d been tugging at her engagement ring—it seemed to be getting tighter the closer they got to Bly—leaving her finger swollen and red. No one asked why she looked so tired. No one asked about the vacant stare she knew probably made her look like she was having a medical episode. And it was better that way, without them noticing. Easier.

“Beautiful thing, spring weddings,” the driver was saying over his shoulder. “How many days until the ceremony?”

“Nine,” Edmund said, flashing a smile Dani’s way.

The driver nodded. “Weather should hold, I imagine. Been downright balmy, it has. May have to smile your way through the odd sunshower or two, but that’s good luck then, innit?”

“We figured this would be the best time of year for it,” he reached over for Dani’s hand without looking at her, and didn’t seem to register when she shifted and pulled away. “Glad to hear it’s been mild out, my mates are coming over from the states in a few days for a stag do—”

Ah, there it was. Dani tuned him out and turned back to the passing scenery, the fields and fences she knew so well.

The two manors sat as they always had; boundary lines touching at the property edges, the grounds separated by only a small copse of trees. There was a path through those trees that Dani knew well, and as she stood outside the car, watching the driver pull their trunks from the boot, it took everything she had not to run to it. Flee through the small collection of trees that had seemed so much like a forest when she was a child and run back to the Clayton estate, bolt the door and hide under her bed until they all stopped looking for her.

But she hadn’t run to that path in eighteen years and she wouldn’t run there now. She didn’t want to see what it had become. Her childhood home, left to rot in the damp English air. She hadn’t been back there since the night it happened, and in the chaos that followed she’d decided she would never step foot on the Clayton estate ever again. And the Wingraves never asked it of her. They’d sent their housekeeper over to collect her things—a blanket, some books. A stuffed badger called Dell. Just the essentials. The rest of her belongings, the rest of the house went to auction, she assumed. She hadn’t thought too much about it at the time. She’d been eight and all she’d known was the sharp, twisting knife of grief at the loss of her parents. Both of them, it seemed unbearably unfair. Over time despair was replaced by gratitude when she realized her stay at the Wingrave estate wasn’t temporary, that Edmund’s family had gone through the proper channels to make their guardianship official. Gratitude had, in time, been muddied by embarrassment when Edmund’s father made no secret of the hassle it’d been, the money he lost when Oliver Clayton died and he, the great Henry Wingrave, was left to salvage what was left of the company, already in a fragile state with the declining coal industry. And finally, when she was old enough to see the situation clearly, a new feeling took up residence in Dani’s chest, heavier and stronger than the rest. _Obligation._

And that was the feeling that drove her back that summer. To finally do what she’d long suspected she’d been kept around to do in the first place. Close the circle. Keep the names Clayton and Wingrave, and all the money between them, intertwined. It wasn’t a ring on her finger, it was a shackle.

“Danielle!” Edmund’s mother was standing at the open front door. Judy Wingrave, in a bright yellow pantsuit holding a martini like a prop despite the fact that noon was still two hours off.

“Hi Judy.” She hugged her. It was good to see her, she realized.

Judy led her inside to the nearest sitting room where a gaggle of older women, all aunts and cousins or wives of Wingrave board members, were sipping identical martinis and beaming at the bride, oblivious to the fact that the bride wasn’t beaming back. For the next hour Dani fielded a volley of rapid-fire questions on every aspect of her life, as if the universe was evening the score for all the times she’d avoided talking about the wedding.

“I need details on the proposal,” one of Edmund’s many cousins said with a huge grin, and there were murmurs of agreement from the entire room.

“Well,” Dani blinked at the floor and mustered a smile, “he, um. Wrote our wedding date on the calendar. And then waited for me to notice. It took a couple weeks.”

A beat passed and it seemed like the women were waiting for more.

Finally one of Edmund’s aunts let out a hoot of laughter. “A man who knows what he wants! I love it! Judy, you must be so proud.”

Judy was practically preening, and she leaned over to squeeze Dani’s hand. “Well these two were written in the stars a long time ago, but it will be wonderful to officially make Danielle a Wingrave. Finally!” She laughed a little too loudly and her martini sloshed over the rim.

An older woman who Dani didn’t recognize asked about children next.

“Oh! Wow, yeah, that’s um, we just finished school so we haven’t really been…I mean that’s a long while off.”

“Not t _oo_ long I hope,” the woman said. “Start early, that’s what my gran said and it’s the best advice I ever got.”

Judy seemed to sense Dani’s unease. “Well, like Dani said they just finished school and sold their apartment back in the states so they’ve barely had a minute to breathe, never mind plan for a family.”

“And now that Edmund has his Master’s he’ll stay in Bly permanently, yes?” Another woman asked.

Judy was nodding with wide eyes as she took a long sip of martini. “Thank God. Between boarding school and college I feel like I’ve only seen him a handful of times since he was ten.”

“But see how it pays off?” Another aunt said. “A Masters in Business from MIT, ready to join his father at the helm, all with this beautiful young lady by his side!”

There was another ripple of agreement throughout the room.

“Dani, you must’ve been so anxious waiting for him to finish his degree and propose already!” Someone said.

“A smart woman you are,” someone else said to her, “standing back and letting your man pursue his dreams!”

More murmurs of agreement.

“I got one too.” The words slipped out before Dani could stop them and her face was instantly flushed. “An MBA, I mean.” The women were staring at her so she shrugged, half embarrassed and half furious.

"From MIT?” At least one of them had the decency to look interested.

“Harvard.” She hadn’t even applied to MIT. She’d been going to the same boarding school in the states with Edmund since they were kids, and between that and summers with him at the estate she’d needed her own space. An entire campus where it was virtually impossible to run into him.

“Oh, Harvard.” The woman took a sip of her drink. She’d said it like Harvard was an obvious Plan B.

An older cousin smoothed her blouse and cleared her throat. “Judy, putting your son’s fiancé through graduate school—if you and Henry aren’t the most generous people I know.” She sent Dani a pointed look.

It was fair. Dani hated that it was fair. But they _had_ paid for it. They’d offered—they always offered, she never asked. And she’d worked two jobs to pay her share of the apartment and start to save up so she could pay them back for tuition.

“What will you do with the degree?” Someone asked.

Start my own business. Resurrect the Clayton family name. Build something for myself without a single Wingrave’s help.

But Judy answered for her. “Not a single thing if Edmund has anything to say about it.” She wrapped an arm around Dani’s waist. “She’s going to be the most well-educated lady of the manor that this estate has ever seen.”

Dani’s palms prickled. She had to get out. Get air, get away for a minute.

“I’m actually kind of tired, I don’t want to be rude—”

“Oh my goodness Danielle, we snatched you up before you even had a chance to freshen up,” Judy said, swiping a thumb under her eye where Dani knew there were circles.

Judy walked her back to the foyer. “We put your bags in your old room, I hope you don’t mind,” she lowered her voice, “lots of old-fashioned types staying here this week. Don’t want to scandalize anyone,” she said with a wink. She wrapped her in another hug. “It’s so good to have you back where you belong.” She kissed the side of her head before retreating back to the women and martinis.

It was strange how jumbled feelings could be. She loved Judy. She’d been the closest thing to a mother Dani had known for eighteen years. But the way she’d kept Dani at an arm’s length. The way she turned a blind eye to her husband’s drinking, even when it had, in the later years, caused him to look at Dani every now and then with something decidedly unlike the paternal affection he’d shown her as a child. But if she faulted Judy for anything it was Edmund. Edmund had been so much fun. So silly. So imaginative. So unaware of his privilege—they’d both been naïve that way. But Judy had worshipped him the way rich unhappy women sometimes do—turning perfectly fine boys into spoiled princes. By ten he’d come to understand the world and his place in it. Barking for Hannah when he spilled tea instead of picking up the damn towel himself. Dani had found that by her teens she was preemptively cleaning up after him, talking him down to save the staff from catering to his every whim. She just wanted to keep the peace. She felt she owed them all that. She was obligated.

She hadn’t stayed in her old room since the summer after high school. Judy had practically encouraged her to stay in Edmund’s once they were in college. Someone, probably Hannah, had put fresh sheets on the bed. A fresh duvet cover. And after the journey, after the whole ordeal, the call of crisp sheets and a cool pillow was too tempting to ignore and she slid in, taking only moments to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  
*******

Some time later after Dani woke she’d wandered downstairs and run into Edmund, who asked if she’d walk with him.

  
Once they were outside she headed toward the lake, they’d always walked by the lake, but Edmund steered her away toward the side garden.

“They’ve been clearing it out,” he said, “getting it ready for the ceremony. I’d like to see.”

The hedges had grown so high over the years that the side garden had become a maze of sorts. Rose bushes and stone benches, statues and a footbridge over a small lily pond, all ensconced within the hedge walls. It had been a wonderland for them as children, and there was something melancholy about returning to it now. A sweet ache for a time when she thought this was what she wanted.

As they wound their way through the green labyrinth Edmund, for the first time in weeks, asked her how she was feeling about everything. And, when she thought back on that moment, she’d regret not speaking her mind when the opportunity was handed to her. As it stood, his thoughtfulness caught her off guard. It had grown rarer over the years.

“Feeling about—about the wedding?”

“The wedding, leaving Boston, selling the apartment, all of it.”

“It’s a lot, I mean, a lot at once. But that’s good I think, like ripping off a Band-Aid, right?”

“ _Band-Aid_ ,” he smiled and shook his head. “You realize you’re officially more American than apple pie and monster truck rallies? How is it you don’t even _sound_ British anymore?”

Dani laughed. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, Edmund loved to tease about how her accent had slipped away over all the years in America. She would always shrug and say _it just happened_ , but the truth was she’d studied the clipped consonants of her teachers, the sharp nasal vowels when her friends said her name. She’d taught herself to be American the way she’d taught herself to be a Wingrave. Assimilate. Fit in. They wouldn’t send her away if she was one of them.

“My God, look at this place,” Edmund said as they rounded the bend, coming upon the maze’s central area.

Usually the maze’s center was home to a zen garden and flowering bushes with small stone paths leading between, but someone had cleared that all out and unrolled a large square of turf, presumably where they’d soon set up rows of chairs.

There was an ash tree in the corner, low boughs and a twisted trunk, and Dani squealed.

“My tree’s still here!” Hours and hours she’d spent in those branches, reading and thinking and growing up.

“Not for long I’m afraid,” Edmund said, “I think mother wants to hang some lights from it for the wedding but it’s getting far too big for the garden.” He chuckled at her disappointment. “So sentimental! I’ll plant you a forest of trees when they cut this one down.”

He took her hand and led her to the center of the turf, spinning her slowly and pulling her in for a dance.

“Can you believe that in nine days, you, Miss Danielle Clayton, will be my wife?”

Dani smiled at him and leaned in, putting her head on his shoulder because her smiles tended to fade on their own accord these days and she could only keep it in place for so long. It was unfair, what she was doing. She knew that. But the alternative—telling him she couldn’t love him that way—it was unthinkable. She would do this. And she would smile for as long as she could. Because they’d kept her when she’d had nowhere else to go.

She blinked at something over his shoulder. There were rosebushes all along the perimeter of the makeshift wedding venue and she was just processing the fact now. Someone had dug up every last rosebush on the property it seemed, and replanted them there by the hedges. It must have taken ages.

“All the bushes,” Dani said, pointing when Edmund pulled away to look. “So much work for just one day.”

“Ah, but an important day,” he said. “The most important day.”

She looked at him. “Second only to stag night.”

He laughed. “Naturally.”

She walked over to one of the bushes and brushed a white rose with her finger. The border of bushes perfumed the entire area and it was a lovely, heady scent.

“Is there a new gardener?” Frank had been the groundskeeper when they were kids, but he’d died when they were teenagers. Dani remembered that summer. Judy had complained about the weeds daily.

“Frank’s granddaughter’s taking care of things now.”

Dani whirled around. “No! Not the same one who—?”

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

“But the irony! Edmund, Jamie and the rosebushes.” She shook her head at him.

“Jamie, right. Lord.” He scrubbed through his hair. “She was a beast. But dad says she’s turned the grounds around, so I suppose she’s learned to channel all that aggression into something of worth.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

He stopped walking and looked at her. “Remember what?”

“The rosebush story.”

He rolled his eyes again. “God, Dani. Ancient history.”

“We were seven. All of us, even her. You picked a rose for me. She saw you do it and came over to tell you they weren’t ready to be cut. Frank had taught her well and she was just looking out for his bushes. But you went crazy and took a stick to the entire bush, beat every last flower to the ground. _That’s_ how I remember it.”

“She had a tone! You remember? Any time we ran into her it was like she was already mad about something. Marching about with her overalls and boots. Did you ever see her smile? I don’t think that kid ever smiled.”

“You massacred her grandfather’s roses, and then—”

“Really? We’re going to relive the whole thing?”

“And then she punched you in the face. Was it one black eye or two?”

“You’ve made your point. Actually, you haven’t—I said she was a beast and you’ve just reaffirmed that my memory of the incident is sound.”

Dani shrugged. “In my memory, you were the beast. That’s amazing that she’s still here though. I mean, that kind of loyalty and work ethic is—

“She’s a gardener, Dani, of course she’s still here. People like that aren’t exactly adept at upward mobility. Don’t know about you but I didn’t meet a single groundskeeper in all my time at MIT.”

Dani just looked at him. Kept looking after he’d looked away. There were glimpses of his potential, hints here and there when he truly seemed good. But this. This is what it’d become. This was who he’d become, and it was heartbreaking. And it made her skin crawl.

Something moved in the distance, Dani saw it out of the corner of her eye. Beyond the garden, past the hedge maze, on a little knoll in the far reaches of the yard. Children. Two of them. A little boy and a little girl. The boy raised his hand as if he realized Dani had noticed them, as if he was saying hello. She started to raise a hand in greeting but the little girl brought a finger to her lips.

Dani glanced at Edmund to see if he’d noticed them too, but he was looking down at his phone.

“Eddie, do you know who those—” But when she looked back at the knoll they were gone.

***

Maybe it was being in her old room again, maybe it was just being back at the estate. Maybe it was even more simply just the stress of a wedding that everyone else was more eager for than she. But that night she dreamed of it. The evening before her eighth birthday. The night her parents died.

The dream came in flashes. Pulsing strobes. She and Edmund, cheering when Mrs. Clayton rang back with permission for Dani to spend the night. She and Edmund, giggling and slurping spaghetti. A spilled bowl. A slightly aggravated Hannah. Up to bed, not tired, hide and seek. Dani, hiding in the folds of one of the guest room bed’s four poster curtains. Waiting. Getting sleepy. Falling asleep on that big guest bed in what would eventually become her own room. Dreaming. A dream within a dream. Dreaming of a door banging open. Loud voices. Her father’s voice. Accusing. Angry. Another voice. Silence. Then, Dani woke, eight-years-old and blinking in the morning light. Eight-years-old and walking downstairs to a sea of chaos. Policemen. Judy Wingrave, crying. Eight-years-old and no one seeing her there, wandering through the foyer. Suddenly being scooped up by Hannah, tear-stains on her brown cheeks, secreting her away to the kitchen.

In all of it, perhaps the worst thing was that dream. Eight-years-old and dreaming of her father, angry and loud. He was never those things. And yet, that dream was her last memory of him. Her last memory of him, and it was a lie. 

The dream faded and Dani found herself waking, wiping at her forehead where the sweat had plastered several stray strands. She lay there for a minute, willing herself back to sleep, but it was useless. Moonlight was streaming in through the window and something drew her there, to that dusky spotlight on the floor. The grounds of the estate were dark except for the tall lanterns lighting the path to the front door. She was about to turn away, get a glass of water and check her phone, when movement by one of the lanterns distracted her.

What the—

It was them again. The children. A small boy and a smaller girl. Earlier she’d assumed they were kids from town. It was a safe enough village and parents were never very hesitant to let their children explore the woods and fields of Bly when the weather turned toward spring. But it had to be past midnight, and it suddenly occurred to her that maybe they’d been exploring and gotten lost.

She slipped into a pair of old Harvard sweats and the sneakers she’d left by the door, grabbing her phone on the way out in case she had to call the kids’ parents or even the police. Someone had to be worried about them by now.

They weren’t by the lantern anymore. Dani’s footsteps crunched on the crushed stone walk, down to the drive and back again. No sight of them. She walked back toward the house, stopping halfway to shoot a quick text to Edmund, _there are kids in the yard, I think they’re lost-_

but as she started typing a movement in the side yard caught her eye.

They were there, standing side by side in the grass.

“There you are, hi!” Dani pocketed her phone and stepped toward the grass, “I was looking for you, it’s so late, are you guys lost?”

In the time it took to cross to where they stood, something niggled in the back of Dani’s mind. It was the way they were standing. Poised, proper even, twin smiles and perfect hair. Not at all like they’d been wandering the woods for an entire day. Not at all like two very small children lost in a strange yard at night. But she pushed the thought aside. They were kids and they weren’t where they should be, wherever that was. It was as simple as that—they needed her help.

She got within five feet of them when suddenly they spun, running off and disappearing into the hedge maze. Dani watched them for a second, shocked and a little annoyed at being duped into a game she had no interest in playing. But she wasn’t going to let them spend the night in the hedges. It was hard enough to find your way out of the maze in daylight, never mind now.

“Hey, guys,” she trudged after them, summoning her nanny voice from those two summers she’d spent during her undergrad years chasing after three hyperactive triplets who’d just mastered the word _no_. “Guys it’s late and this isn’t safe,” she took out her phone, flipped on the flashlight app. “Someone must be worried about you, we need to get you home.”

A rustling to her left had her spinning around and shining her light in the opposite direction. The little girls face peeked around the corner, down the narrow lane of hedge and she smiled, sweet and innocent, then beckoned Dani to follow before disappearing back around the corner.

Dani took the lane at a slight jog, trying to keep her tone stern but not threatening. “I’m serious, you’re not in trouble but you need to come out now.”

She rounded the bend and there they were, in the center of the maze where she’d danced with Edmund earlier. Where she’d been standing when she’d spotted them earlier. As she closed in on them the little boy raised a hand to shield his eyes from her phone’s bright flashlight, so she lowered the light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and when they did, the children were gone.

Which was impossible. Dani spun in a circle. The only exit was behind her, the newly planted rosebushes blocked the former exit on the opposite side where the kids had been standing. Her mind was desperately trying to rationalize. They had to be in the bushes. Hiding. Maybe she’d scared them. She flipped the light back on and went down the entire line of rosebushes, looking between branches and whispering aloud that if they were hiding they could come out, she promised she just wanted to help them.

But they weren’t there. And the protective instinct that had drawn her out into the pitch black yard in the first place was quickly being replaced by a tingle of dread, because something was very wrong. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but she certainly believed in stress-induced hallucinations. At best. At worst…well. She’d had an uncle, her mother’s brother, who’d been institutionalized at her age. She’d never given it much thought before.

It was stress, she decided. Nothing more.

She marched back across the turf toward the exit, but stopped once, flipped on her light and scanned the area once more.

They were there. She’d seen them. _They were right there just a minute ago._ She started back toward the bushes once more, because they hadn’t been a hallucination they just _hadn’t_ , but she’d already checked multiple times and this was getting ridiculous so she turned on a dime and headed back the way she came, again, muttering as she went.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a weirdo?”

Dani froze. The voice had come from the tree, _her_ tree, and it was decidedly not the voice of a small child. She flipped on her flashlight. A woman was perched in the bend of the tree with one leg stretched out along the bough, smoking and looking completely disinterested in the minor breakdown she’d clearly just had a front row seat to. 

After an awkward disbelieving moment passed, Dani realized who it was.

“…Jamie?”

“Evening, Miss Clayton,” she said around the cigarette in her mouth. “Been awhile.”

“Yeah, hey, uh,” Dani could feel herself getting awkward, “that wasn’t—I thought I saw kids? Two little kids? I was following—did you see—?”

She looked over her shoulder and then back at Jamie, who jutted her jaw and gave a slow shake of her head.

“Only saw you. Talkin’ to the plants.”

Dani’s laugh was too sharp and too loud. “Right, yeah. No I was talking to the, um, to the kids.”

A painful moment passed where Jamie glanced away, but not before Dani saw her smirk. She watched Jamie blow a plume of smoke through her lips and wished that the ground would swallow her whole.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Jamie said, still looking away.

“Congrat—oh—the wedding? Yeah, it’s…thanks. Thank you.”

“Suppose that means you’ll be my boss then, yeah? If I stay on. Just like old times. You, me and Edmund.

“I’m not, I wouldn’t—I mean it’s not like that. It’s Henry and Judy’s house.”

“And one day it’ll be yours.”

Dani let that uncomfortable truth hang between them, waited for it to evaporate in the crisp evening air.

“Lady Wingrave.” Jamie said it quietly, with a smirk and a small shake of her head, like the title was a joke. Or maybe it was just the notion of Dani in that role that was laughable. Either way, Dani was beginning to regret running into her. She didn’t need this.

“Anyway,” Dani sighed a little more loudly than she meant to, “I should go. Get some rest.”

“Don’t let me keep ya.”

“Ok then. Goodnight.”

Dani took several steps then turned back, a thought crossing her mind.

“Did you do all of this?” Dani gestured around at the rose bushes, the turf, all the work that had been done.

“’S my job, innit?”

“It looks really nice. Thank you.”

“Like I said. It’s my job.”

Dani nodded and headed back for the house. It was bad enough she’d been caught chasing after…she wouldn’t call them hallucinations, not yet. Not when they’d been so _real_. But then Jamie had sat there in that tree, smug and haughty and Dani was just trying to be nice.

But there was more to it, Dani knew. She’d rather been hoping Jamie had forgotten. Actually, if she was being honest, she’d been hoping she’d never see Jamie again. It had been a stupid thing, what happened the summer she’d turned fifteen. A vulnerable moment on the anniversary of her parents’ death. Running into Jamie by the lake. Edmund had been so obsessed with his new computer he hadn’t even remembered which day it was. That it was _the_ day. But then she’d run into Jamie by the lake that night and Jamie had remembered. They weren’t even friends, and Jamie remembered. They’d talked, they’d sat and talked some more. Dani had cried and Jamie had been kind. And then it just sort of happened. Jamie kissed her. Or maybe Dani had kissed her. A quick peck that Dani had bounced back from like an electric shock. Eyes wide. Jamie’s eyes wider. Surprised, confused maybe. And then Dani had run. And she hadn’t seen Jamie since. Not until tonight. But that had all happened so many years ago—there was no way Jamie still felt weird about it. Kids experiment. Dani had chalked it up to that a long while ago. Jamie had to know that—she’d spent plenty of days that summer with plenty of girls, townies probably, all of them coming and going from the greenhouse when Frank wasn’t around. Dani had watched them come and go as she read in her tree. So there was no way Jamie was holding a grudge over one stupid kiss.

Maybe Edmund had been right. Maybe Jamie was always mad about something. Maybe people really did become who they were going to be in childhood. It didn’t matter. She’d just avoid her from now on.

Simple as that.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning after breakfast Dani had a dress fitting in town that she’d invited Judy along for.

The dress shop was a small boutique in the heart of the village and Judy had been taking them there since they were kids to be fitted for Christmas party clothes. But enough time had passed that when Dani walked in, Mr. Rumbles, the elderly shop owner, didn’t recognize her at first. But when he did it was all over.

“Danielle!” He flounced over, measuring tape draped around his neck, and cupped her cheeks in his hands, air kissing three times on each side. “ _You’re_ my ten o’clock bridal?” He turned to Judy. “And don’t tell me. Edmund’s the groom. Yes?” He touched Judy’s arm. “I told you. I told you all the time when they were kids, didn’t I?”

Judy was laughing. “I think we all knew.”

“Let me look at you, strudel,” he stepped back, looking Dani up and down. “My goodness. Those eyes. Like a hungry Siberian child. Beautiful, just beautiful. Edmund is a lucky man. Cutting it a tad close with the dress though,” he shot Dani a look like it was her fault Judy had insisted she be fitted at Rumbles and not back in Boston, “but with a body like yours I think we can work with something from the floor without too many alterations.” He reached out and pinched her waist. “Like a Scandinavian swimsuit model, aren’t you, crumpet.” He shot her a sly look and threw one end of the measuring tape over his shoulder like a scarf. “We’re going to make you look like a dream.”

An hour later they’d found the dress. Cream with a neckline that plunged to just above her navel. Not enough tulle to make it fluffy, just enough for elegance. Hand sewn flowers were stitched into the tulle, winding their way around the dress from top to bottom.

Someone from the house called Judy’s cell so she stepped outside for a moment, and Dani took the time to really look at herself in the folded mirror. The dress was stunning. She loved it, which surprised her. She hadn’t expected to have strong feelings either way. But it was beautiful and she felt beautiful in it. Somehow that made everything sadder.

“I wish,” Mr. Rumbles said softly as he was pinning up the hem, “that your parents could’ve seen you in this.”

“Oh, that’s—thank you, that’s nice.” The sentiment caught her off guard and she smoothed her hands down the dress a few times.

“I mean it. I fit your mother for her dress, did you know?”

Dani looked at him then. She shook her head.

“They were good people, your parents. And your dad, well,” he blew out a breath, “I knew Oliver when he was a boy. Knew him before Miles and Flora went missing, even. And I always thought how unfair, so much misfortune befalling such a good man. And just to say it, you should know that none of us round here believed a word of that documentary. Exploitative, that’s what that filth was. Oliver wasn’t that sort of man.”

“I, um. I didn’t see it.” Dani’s palms were starting to sweat and her throat felt tight. She didn’t talk about her parents. She didn’t talk about her dad’s brother and sister who had probably ended up the victims of some sick predator so many years ago. She’d been away when they filmed the _Still Missing_ documentary and didn’t open a single email from the film when they went after her for an interview. She didn’t talk about any of it. She didn’t think about any of it. Just like the Clayton estate, she’d closed the door and didn’t plan on setting foot inside again.

Mr. Rumbles was nodding. “For the best then, I’d wager.”

Judy stepped back inside and the rush of cool air that came with her was a welcome relief.

“Moira and Prudence are having lunch across the street and they’ve invited us to join.” She dropped her cell in her purse and looked at Dani expectantly.

She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less than have lunch with Edmund’s aunts, the same aunts who’d told her just yesterday she should wear more makeup because _we need to keep our husbands on their toes, they can’t help that wandering eye._

“Actually I think I’m going to take a walk, I uh,” she forced a smile. “I need to call Rebecca and let her know it’s cream. The dress, I mean. She’s been waiting to pick her own.”

“Your Maid of Honor?” Mr. Rumbles asked, smiling when Dani nodded. “A woman after my own heart. Cream, white and ivory are three completely different colors, and the wrong accent can spoil the whole palette.” 

“Should I have someone from the house come pick you up?” Judy asked.

“No, I’m fine, really, I’d rather walk,” Dani was trying to escape into the dressing room to change before Judy could try to talk her out of it.

“It’s five miles back to the estate Danielle—”

“I used to run seven when I played soccer at Radley.” She flashed Judy a smile before darting behind the curtain.

“The body of an American soccer player. That’s it exactly.” She could hear practically Mr. Rumbles nodding to himself.

It felt good to walk. The lane was long and empty and it was the first time she’d been truly alone in weeks. After the first mile she was itching for more. She wanted to run.

She tied her sweatshirt around her waist, smoothed her tank top and tugged her yoga pants up on her waist before leaning down to stretch her calves and her hamstrings. It’d been a little while and there was a bit of a sweet sting with every stretch.

She started off slow, pacing herself. Tried to keep her breathing even. Tried to will every thought of dead parents, loveless marriages, weird hallucinations and chronic aches of homesickness out from her head and into the ditch alongside the road. A clear head. That’s all she wanted. She barely felt herself running faster. But the thoughts weren’t leaving so her legs moved faster and faster, trying to outrun everything until she was all but sprinting.

The first drops of rain hit her cheeks, the next one hit her eye. She didn’t slow down. If anything the rain felt good. Cathartic. Soon it was dribbling and within five minutes there was a crack of thunder and the sky split open. She didn’t slow down. Not when lightning hit the field across the road, and not when headlights appeared behind her and a truck pulled up alongside her, keeping pace with her.

The window rolled down.

“No offense, but this is kinda weird too.”

_Of course. Of course it was her again._

Dani slowed, just enough to send Jamie a glare through the open window. “Running is weird?”

“You’re soakin’ wet and it’s not—”

“Befitting of the future Lady Wingrave?”

“Safe.” There was a crack of thunder and Jamie pointed a finger at the sky.

“I’m fine.” Dani started jogging again. She was being needlessly rude, she realized, but her day had been crap and there was no denying the small smirk on Jamie’s face, like she was enjoying this, Dani looking like a waterlogged stray.

“Look, not tryin’ to coddle you, I’m sure you can outrun lightnin’ and halt thunder with the snap of your little fingers, but it’ll be my neck if I leave you like this and somethin’ happens.”

Dani rolled her eyes. Of course it came back to the Wingraves. “You can just tell them I refused to go with you. That I knowingly chose to be fried by the next bolt.”

“Seems a bit dramatic when you could just get in the truck.”

Dani did stop then, took a breath and turned to face Jamie. “I appreciate the offer. I do. You can go back to the estate with your conscience clear. I’m not getting in the truck.”

She started running again, easing into a brisk jog. Jamie didn’t say anything, but she also didn’t roll up the window or drive away. She just kept pace with Dani, seemingly unbothered, like she had all the time in the world.

They continued on that way for at least half a mile, the rain worsening and the sky darkening to a greenish black. Suddenly there was an enormous _crack_ and the tree just ahead lit up with a volley of sparks and flames. Dani had never seen lightning up close like that, never seen the immense damage it can do firsthand. She should’ve been terrified. But it was exhilarating. She started to run faster. She was sprinting when she realized that Jamie was screaming her name.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Her eyes were wild when Dani finally stopped and faced her. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The tree, now in the distance behind them, was still burning. Dani put a hand to her forehead and watched it for a moment. Her heart was racing. Everything she’d been trying to outrun caught up with her, slammed into her, took possession of her again.

“Sorry, I—” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t—”

Jamie was watching her closely, without a hint of her usual haughtiness. She looked scared, and a little bit angry, and Dani apologized again.

“Will you please get in the truck?” Jamie asked, her voice measured and low.

Dani nodded and stepped around the hood, climbing into the passenger’s seat.

They drove in silence, the truck’s quiet occasionally punctuated by a _boom_ or a flash.

When they reached the estate the driveway was littered with expensive cars, more than had been there when Dani left that morning.

“Crap.” Dani had forgotten.

“What?” Jamie put the truck into park at the edge of the drive.

“Henry and Edmund are doing their suit fitting in the foyer, the tailor came out for it. They’re making it a whole thing, Henry’s friends are all here. There’s going to be cigars and everything.”

“That does sound like hell. Fake a headache, isn’t that what they say? They’ll leave you be.”

“No,” Dani turned away from the car window and looked at Jamie, “no, it’s not that. I can’t get upstairs without them seeing.” She looked down at herself. She was still sopping, and somehow she’d managed to streak mud up her side as well.

“It’s just a bit of mud.”

“To us, maybe.” Dani shrugged. “Not to them. They’ll ask me what I was doing, why I was doing it, if everything is alright. People will talk. There’s like, thirty people staying in the house right now and they’re all just…” She trailed off, remembering herself.

Jamie stared ahead for a moment, then with a small nod she seemed to make a decision. “Tell you what. I’ve got towels and clean clothes in the greenhouse. We’ll get you fixed up. And I’m not goin’ to hound you, not like them,” she nodded at the house, “but I am gonna ask if you’re alright.”

Dani looked at her. She hadn’t been expecting that. The kindness.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, not answering the question.

Jamie pressed, but softly. “Are you? Alright?”

 _I'm fine_. The words nearly rolled out of her mouth, they were so automatic. So rehearsed. But she’d just nearly been obliterated by lightning and for once in her life pretending everything was fine felt like such a waste of energy. So she said nothing.

“Alright then.” Jamie seemed to take no answer to be answer enough. She nodded. Finally she glanced at Dani and opened the door. “Come on. You’re ruinin’ my seat.”

Dani hadn’t been inside the greenhouse in over twelve years. It had always been a messy place, Frank had been a bit of a hoarder and you could always count on running into your fair share of empty pots and spider webs.

Jamie had turned the greenhouse into a fantasy world. Like the set of A Midsummer Night’s Dream when Radley produced it senior year. When Edmund had joined drama club just because Dani had auditioned and been cast.

“Oh my God, Jamie—this is, I mean wow,” Dani said, turning in a circle, “you’re really good at this.”

“It’s my job,” she said, but there was a smile in her voice.

There were strands of tea lights strung back and forth across the ceiling, gigantic plants of all shapes and sizes everywhere, like a jungle. Jamie led Dani to the back of the greenhouse where a salt lamp glowed by a wooden door.

Dani had never been into the gardener’s hut, not even as a child. She hadn’t thought much about it back then, it was just where Frank and Jamie lived. But now, stepping through the rickety frame and into a small kitchen with a floor that was slightly tilted, she felt a stab of guilt. It was so small, so cramped, and there were so many empty rooms in the manor.

Jamie lit a lamp and a warm glow filled the room.

“Loo’s just there,” she pointed, “towels are under the sink. I’ll find you somethin’ to change into.”

When Dani was dry, or at least dryer, she joined Jamie in the small room attached to the kitchen. Jamie had lit a fire in the small fireplace and she took Dani’s wet clothes and spread them out near the flames.

“May have to come back for your kit,” she lifted the yoga pants and dropped them back, scrunching her nose at the slopping sound they made. “Be awhile before they’re dry.”

“I can wait.” Dani realized immediately after saying it that it might’ve been the wrong thing to say. Jamie was looking at her curiously. “I mean, I don’t have to—I can, I mean if you have stuff to do—”

“Make yourself at home, Poppins. Comfy enough?” she nodded at the borrowed jeans and tee shirt.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Dani tugged on the tee shirt awkwardly. “Poppins?”

“You were chasin’ after two wee gremlins last we met. Could call you paranoid crazy lady instead if you like.”

A smile tugged at Dani’s lips.

“Seen any more of your ghosties today?

“No. You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”

“Hardly. Seen plenty of strange things round here myself.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” Jamie shrugged. “Nothin’ quite as strange as you, tryin’ to commit suicide by electrical storm but,” she stuck out her lip and raised her hands, “not judgin’.”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to do that.” Dani sighed and sunk onto a worn armchair, the only other piece of furniture in the small room.

Jamie looked like she was about to say something else, but the kettle started whistling and Dani followed her back into the kitchen when she went to pour the tea. They sat at the uneven kitchen table at mismatched chairs, the rain still slanting against the window and the fire finally warming the hut.

“So,” Jamie said after a comfortable stretch of silence. “Twelve years it’s been.”

“Twelve years?”

“Since the last time I saw you. Last night aside, of course.”

Dani’s heart skipped. She wasn’t actually going to mention the kiss—was she? She could feel a flush of heat creeping up her neck and she stared down into her cup, avoiding Jamie’s eyes. But Jamie didn’t mention the kiss.

“Hear you’re practically American these days. When Hannah said you’d gained an American accent I thought she was speakin’ in hyperbole, but here we are.” She chuckled. “What kept you over there?”

“School, mostly. I mean you know about Radley, the…the school—”

“Posh boarding school you and Edmund shipped off to at the end of each summer, I remember. Those uniforms were…” Jamie gave a short shake of her head and sent Dani a half smile over her teacup.

Dani laughed. “Awful, I know.”

“So after Radley?”

“Harvard. Stayed there through graduate school.” She sipped her tea, then noticed Jamie was watching her, a strange smile on her face.

“Harvard? Poppins, that’s…bloody impressive is what it is. Cheers,” she raised her teacup.

Dani smiled. It _was_ impressive. She’d worked hard to get into that school and she’d worked doubly hard to stay there.

“Thank you.”

“I’m serious. No wonder you were always readin’ when we were kids. Thought you avoided playin’ with me ‘cause I was the help, but turns out you were just feedin’ that gigantic brain of yours.”

“I didn’t avoid playing with you, you never asked.”

“That’s probably true, yeah. We wouldn’t have got on, I reckon. I was a wee bastard most of the time, and you were a stuck up little shite—"

“Hey!”

“You were, Poppins. Still might be, haven’t quite figured yet.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Bein’ a pretentious twat’s kinda unavoidable when you’re born with a silver spoon up your arse. Not sayin’ I blamed you for it. Least you weren’t like Edmund, throwin’ rocks at Frank’s windows and smashin’ the ceramic pots he’d made for his orchids—”

Dani lowered her cup. “Edmund did that?”

Jamie was nodding. “But that’s not—look, what I’m tryin’ to say is maybe I didn’t like you, but you suffered a hell of a loss and I knew what that felt like. How it guts you. Pulls your insides out til you feel empty, or worse than. Loneliest feeling in the world, that. And yeah I thought you were an arrogant twat—"

“Okay you’ve made that part clear, you don’t need to keep—”

“But here you are, Harvard graduate, ghost hunter, soon to be Lady of the Manor. Got layers, Clayton. More than I gave due credit for.”

“I honestly don’t know if you’re mocking me right now, I can’t tell—

Jamie laughed. “I’m not. I’m bein’ honest. Honestly.” She looked up and her eyes were warm, like she’d just seen the rest of Dani and found that she’d been wrong about her. It was humility and fondness and a bit of something else that had Dani looking away, to the floor, out the window.

“So what about you, I mean, one summer we came back from Radley and you were just gone.”

Jamie shrugged. “Frank died, so.” Something about the way she said it made it sound like there was more to the story and she didn’t want to go there.

Dani could respect that, even if she was curious. “I’m sorry about Frank. Your grandad was, um, he was a really good guy.” Actually Dani couldn’t remember much of Frank, outside of the vague memory of an elderly man hobbling around the grounds, checking on this bush or that hedge. Jamie hadn’t been all wrong about the silver spoon.

“Yeah, he was my world for a while there.” Jamie pointed out the window where the rain was finally fading to a drizzle. “Looks like the fancy suit fitting’s done with.”

Out the window several people were hurrying from the house to the driveway, umbrellas up and cars starting.

“Can probably sneak in now, yeah?”

“Right, yeah, finally,” Dani’s laugh sounded nervous, she could hear it. She didn’t feel nervous though, she felt disappointed. Jamie’s hut had more warmth in it than the whole of the manor with all its fireplaces and finery. In another life she and Jamie could’ve been friends, probably. Good friends, even.

Jamie walked her to the door, promising to return her soaked clothes once they’d dried.

She’d only taken a few steps back into the greenhouse when Jamie’s voice called after her.

“Hey—”

Dani turned back. Jamie was standing there, in the doorway of the hut, rubbing at her forehead with her thumb, looking hesitant and uncomfortable and not at all like she’d looked the past hour.

“Don’t quite know why I’m sayin’ this, but…while we’re walkin’ down memory lane, do you remember…” She wasn’t looking Dani in the eye, which was probably for the best, because Dani knew exactly what she was about to ask and her face was on fire anticipating it. But she realized—and it was a strange realization to come to—that she wanted her to ask. She wanted Jamie to pull it out in the light of day. Laugh at it, chalk it up to being bored, to being teenagers. Explain it away so that Dani could put it to rest. Because Dani hadn’t been able to put it to rest. She’d thought about that kiss. She’d thought about it a lot. Wondered what would’ve happened if she hadn’t run away. If there could’ve been more to it.

“Remember what?” Dani took a couple steps back toward Jamie, who was squinting at the wall of the greenhouse with pursed lips and a pained expression.

Jamie blew out a breath and shook her head. “Nothin’.”

But then their eyes met, and Dani knew it was obvious that she’d known what Jamie had almost asked. The moment hung between them like the lights strung across the ceiling. Twinkling with possibility, needing only one of them to be brave enough. Dani was watching her closely when Jamie’s forehead furrowed with a focused crease and she took a step closer, reaching out for Dani’s face.

“You’ve got some mud.” Her eyes flicked to Dani’s once, seeking permission it seemed, before she took the sleeve of her flannel button up in her fingers and gently swiped it across Dani’s cheek. When she dropped her hand, Dani caught it. It was an impulsive thing to do and Dani had only meant to tell her thank you for being kind, or maybe she’d meant to tell her it’s okay because I think about it too sometimes. Even still.

But then Jamie was looking down to where Dani was holding her fist, still closed around the flannel sleeve. And when she finally dragged her eyes back up to Dani’s it was like all the air in the greenhouse was gone.

There’d been a party once. Freshman year of college. Some sorority thing that a friend of a friend had invited Dani along to. There’d been a girl there with dark curls and heavy eyes and they’d watched each other from a distance for most of the night. She’d reminded Dani of Jamie. And when she’d caught Dani in the hallway by the bathroom, leaned in with breath that smelled like apples and alcohol, Dani had let it happen. In some strange way it felt like a second chance at that kiss. A second chance where she was ready for it, where she wouldn’t run away. She’d learned two things that night. First, that a quick peck from the gardener’s granddaughter had somehow hit her with an electricity that even a full make out session with a poor man’s substitute couldn’t hope to measure up to. Second, and arguably more importantly, despite the kiss being a pale comparison to what Dani had fantasized about it still managed to set something alight in her. The slide of the girl’s tongue across her own. The way the girl pressed into her, anchoring Dani’s hips with her hands.

Dani had walked back to her dorm laughing that night. _Girls._ Girls did it for her. And in a perfect world it would’ve been an uncomplicated discovery. A celebrated discovery, even.

But the next morning Edmund had brought her flowers—their third anniversary already—and Judy had called to wish them both many happy returns. And Dani had been reminded that she wasn’t free. She’d avoided parties after that. She’d kissed Edmund with every ounce of passion she could muster after that. But she knew the truth of herself and in the end she’d resigned herself to it. Plenty of people married for things other than love. She would find passion in her work. Pleasure in traveling and incredible food and good friends. It would all be fine.

But now, holding Jamie’s fist that was slowly unfurling, slowly moving to lace their fingers together, her thumb stroking along the top of Dani’s hand, it was like everything she’d worked to bury within herself was tunneling its way back up. Jamie’s thumb was leaving a trail of sparks along her hand, invisible and scorching.

Dani dared a glance at Jamie’s face and immediately regretted it as heat pooled in her stomach, and lower, between her legs. Jamie’s eyes were focused on her lips and her mouth was open, just slightly. Her cheeks were flushed, which was interesting, Dani realized through the haze of the moment, because it meant she was there with her. It had to mean that, didn’t it? That she felt it too?

A car door slammed and the moment shattered. _Fuck._ She was getting married in just over a week. This wasn’t just inconvenient it was wrong. It was so wrong.

“Sorry,” she shook her head stupidly, blinking at the ground. “Sorry. I didn’t—um. I’ll come back, actually, for the clothes so you don’t have to—you could just leave them in the greenhouse and I’ll come get them at some point.”

Jamie stepped back and cleared her throat. “Right. Whatever you want. Fine by me.”

She was still staring at Dani’s lips, and Dani felt an invisible pull back toward her. So she rallied her strength and turned around, walking to the greenhouse door.

And maybe it was the heat of the moment, maybe it was pure stupidity that she’d regret later, but at the door she turned back, once more.

“I do. Remember, I mean.” She gave it five seconds. Just enough time to see a smirk start to dawn across Jamie’s face, before she left the greenhouse and walked across the soggy estate, fighting a smile of her own the whole way.


	3. Chapter 3

The rattle of the doorknob woke Dani in the dark early hours. Edmund shut the door behind him and crawled into bed, lining himself along her blanketed back. She kept her breathing even and soft, even as he whispered her name and stroked her hair.

He was persistent and finally it became too ridiculous to keep pretending. “I’m sleeping, Eddie.”

He kept stroking her hair, and soon she felt his hips pressing into her back.

She sighed. “We have your mom’s brunch first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “but I’m hungry now.”

The awful truth of it was that it had all become routine to Dani. Rolling over, letting him take what he needed. It never felt like a violation, not really, he would never force anything on her though he certainly pouted whenever he was denied. Sex with Edmund was just that—sex. Perfunctory. Mercifully quick.

She gave in, it was easier to just get it over with, and besides, there was a small part of her that had begun to feel guilty. Begun to hate herself for what she was doing to Eddie. Because he was being strapped into a loveless marriage right alongside her, but he was completely unaware. What kind of monster does that to a person? What kind of coward?

And so she turned over and let him in. Tipped her head back and away from his labored breaths, hot and uncomfortable on her neck. Squeezed her eyes shut when he started to speed up and then, for some godforsaken reason, she pictured Jamie. _No._ She pushed the image away. It felt wrong, like she was sullying her somehow. Dragging Jamie into something dark and complicated. But try as she did, the image persisted. Jamie, flushed and staring at their joined hands. Jamie, lips parted, tongue darting out to slick across them. Jamie, not stepping away in the greenhouse but reaching for her, grabbing a hand around her neck and bruising her lips with a kiss they’d waited twelve years to finish. Jamie, pushing her back against one of the greenhouse tables. Fingers scraping against her jeans, mouth biting at her neck.

Dani kept her eyes closed as she snaked a hand down past the shirt she hadn’t taken off, teasing herself with a finger.

“Yeah,” Edmund said when he noticed, “do it.”

His voice took her out of the fantasy for a moment, made her think twice about continuing because she didn’t want him anywhere near these thoughts. They were hers and hers alone.

The images began to play again, unbidden. This time it was Jamie spinning her around so she was bent over the table, sending several succulents to their doom as she reached around to shove a hand into Dani’s jeans, her breath hot against Dani’s ear. _Fuck, you’re wet._ Dani’s fingers sped up, circling around her clit. Jamie, teasing her with a finger, almost sinking it in where she wanted it most before pulling back. Laughing softly in Dani’s ear when she whined for it. Then finally plunging into her, moaning in Dani’s ear when her finger was buried in Dani’s slick heat. _Fuck, Dani._

That was it, the image that sent her over. Jamie, pressed against her back and barely believing how wet Dani was for her. Dani shuddered through it, biting her lip, not trusting herself to keep Jamie’s name off her lips.

When she came back to herself Edmund was watching her. He’d finished at some point and was already pawing around the bed for his shorts.

“That was hot, babe,” he said, finding the shorts and shaking them out, sliding them on while Dani just lay there.

 _Shit._ She shouldn’t have done that. Given life to that kind of fantasy. _Fuck._ There was panic bubbling in her chest and she needed Edmund to leave, get out before she was clawing her way through a full blown panic attack. She grabbed his glasses from the dresser, shoved them into his hand and waited.

“Are you—”

“I’m tired.” She knew her voice was sharp.

“Okay, yeah,” he put his glasses on and leaned down to kiss her cheek, “goodnight then.”

When he was gone she took a great shuddering breath, then another and another. _It was just a fantasy._ Everyone fantasizes. Everyone. Even Eddie, she realized suddenly. Highly doubtful that he was getting off to the vision of a lackluster and disinterested fiancé.

She pulled her own shorts back on, willing the twist of panic in her gut to calm. Sometimes, when she caught it early enough, she could will the attack away. Mind over matter. Keep her heartrate down, keep her breathing even. It didn’t always work, but it seemed to be working then. She sat on the bed, legs crossed, spine straight, for a long time, just breathing. Telling herself it was all fine. It was all. Fine.

Eventually she lay back down. Felt her eyes getting heavy. She shifted onto her right side, shoved an arm under her pillow and willed herself to sleep.

It was only a matter of minutes before it happened. It started as a feeling—someone watching her. She blinked an eye open and then she was bolting upright, scrambling backward on the bed until her back met the headboard.

The children were _inside_. Standing right there, next to her bed. Watching her.

“Okay. Okay. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know who you are, but this is—how did you get in here?” The panic was coming back with a vengeance.

“Please don’t be afraid of us,” the boy said. He had floppy dark hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose, visible in the moonlight. He was wearing the same knit sweater and shorts he’d been wearing the first night she’d spotted them. And he’d just _spoken._

“You talk? You’re real?” Dani could hear the panic in her voice.

“Of course we’re real,” the boy said. “In a way.”

The little girl nodded. “And you mustn’t be afraid of us.”

“In a way? What does that mean, _in a way_? What does that—is this me? Am I hallucinating or making you up or—” A different thought occurred to her. “How long were you standing there?”

“We’ve only just arrived,” the girl said. She was wearing a cotton dress and her hair was pinned back halfway with a bow. “And you’re not making us up silly, it doesn’t work that way.”

Dani looked between them. They looked like real children. But there was something, that same niggling doubt in the back of her mind that she’d felt that first night. Something about them was…off. Something was keeping her from marching them downstairs, calling the police. They were pale, but every kid living in the English countryside was pale, especially after a long winter. No, it was more than that. They didn’t have a spark. They were there, but some part of them wasn’t.

Dani’s voice was low and serious when she spoke. “Are you ghosts?”

Dani watched them look at each other and giggle, but the laughter didn’t reach their eyes.

“We’re memories,” the boy said, with earnest eyes and such sincerity that part of Dani believed him, even if the logic and science of it was impossible.

  
“Memories—my memories? I don’t—this is insane—“ Dani laughed but nothing was funny. She could count the boy’s freckles, see the girls tiny pout, all the details she was certain a hallucination couldn’t conjure. She took a deep breath because she was pretty sure she was about to take the plunge into whatever crazy rabbit hole this was. “Okay.” Another breath. “Okay. You’re memories. What are your names?”

The little girl shook her head. “You need to remember.”

“Remember what? Remember your names?”

This time it was the boy who shook his head. He slowly reached a pointed finger out to her.

“You need to remember, Dani.” His finger touched her forehead and suddenly she was awake, gasping and sitting up, looking around the room, in all the corners. The children were gone, but the center of her forehead was still tingling where he’d touched her.

***

Dani woke the following morning to a sense of peace, which was instantly shattered when she remembered she'd spoken to ghost children the night before, ghost children who may or may not have been dreamed up or hallucinated. Ghost children claiming to be memories. Suddenly a series of bellows and shouts erupted from down the hall like an American football team barreling out onto the field after a particularly rousing pep talk. She winced. The state mates had arrived. Which meant it was only a matter of hours before Rebecca did too. Time to face the day. She'd figure out the ghost situation later. Or find ways of avoiding it, at least. Maybe sleeping with a light on, from now on. Or a podcast. Maybe she could fall asleep to a podcast about high vibrations and positivity. There was an answer somewhere, and it definitely didn't involve engaging with them...whatever they were...again. 

Judy’s brunches were known by Bly’s upper crust for being outlandishly extravagant and exhaustingly lengthy. Dani suspected Judy dragged the events out on purpose, paying the caterers extra to bring out dishes at a crawl so she could bask in her role as hostess for as long as the day allowed. This morning’s brunch promised more of the same. From the bathroom window Dani could see the long table that’d been set out on the back veranda, a flurry of staff working to set out champagne glasses and silver and linen napkins that’d been crafted into swirls and set in the middle of each plate. Everything in creams and robin’s egg blues. _Dani designed the entire palette,_ she’d overheard Judy tell an aunt the day before, _with her eye for color she’ll utterly shatter my legacy when it’s her turn to host at Wingrave!_ Dani suspected that particular line was intended more the desired response of _Never, Judy! You have a gift!_ that the aunt dutifully supplied. But it also happened to be a boldfaced lie. Dani hadn’t chosen anything, a wedding planner had. Judy had hired some lady in France to organize things remotely, and when the poor woman started to catch on to the fact that Dani didn’t exactly have strong feelings regarding the details she’d emailed Dani three different palette suggestions and Dani picked one.

Down below on the veranda Dani caught sight of Hannah, poised and calm as ever despite the bustle around her. She had a clipboard in hand and was pointing the brunch staff this way and that. Hannah had always been a lighthouse—an unyielding beacon in the fiercest storm, and it was probably thanks to her that Dani had survived in the Wingrave house at all. Small moments that happened more frequently around the anniversary of her parents’ deaths, when Hannah would pull her aside and ask _how are we feeling today, sweet girl?_ or wink at her and whisper _I bought your favorite meringues from the shops today, they’re in the tall cupboard, don’t tell Edmund._ And then once, just once, during their last summer spent home in Bly before college, Hannah found her crying after a fight with Edmund and she’d said _don’t you forget that you’re a Clayton, and you are every bit their equal._ It’s stuck with her. Not only because it was the closest thing to defiance she ever heard from Hannah, but because it meant that Hannah saw her being pulled under the force of the family’s gravity. She was the only one in Bly who hadn’t said _such a_ _lucky girl, where would she be without Judy and Henry._

Dani wondered what Hannah was thinking now. She’d hugged her, welcomed her home, squeezed her hands and told her they’d have to find a moment to catch up. But Dani was afraid that, when they finally did find a moment, Hannah would see right through the façade. That she’d be disappointed in her for not being stronger. For not acting like she was every bit their equal. For surrendering without a fight.

As expected, brunch was very nearly an all-day affair.

Rebecca got in at noon and made an entrance onto the veranda in green lace and heels, looking for all the world like she hadn’t just flown a redeye from Manhattan and driven deep into the countryside.

After a round of hugs and introductions Rebecca settled down in the seat next to Dani, leaning in with a smile. “So, where are we, three? Six? Eight?”

Dani laughed. In college Edmund, Peter and all their state mates could always be counted on to get roaring drunk at every party. She and Rebecca had developed a numerical system to track just how far along they were. Things were fun up to around seven, then they quickly devolved into sloppy and oftentimes it’d been Dani and Rebecca cleaning up the mess.

“Two. Judy’s brunches are more about slow and steady,” she said quietly. “Besides I doubt champagne is going to hit as hard as what they’re used to.”

They both glanced down the table where Edmund was looking at something Peter was showing him on his phone while one of their friends said something that had all of them laughing.

“Peter’s looking well.” Rebecca took a sip of Bellini and looked around, casual as the breeze.

“No.” A smile tugged at the corners of Dani’s mouth. “You are incorrigible and I’m not doing this with you again.” She shook her head at her friend. “He’s a douchebag, Becs.”

“A douchebag with biceps the size of cantaloupes,” she leaned in to Dani’s ear, “and a massive—”

“Okay, you need actual help, you’re like an addict. There have to be thousands of men in New York who would stumble over themselves for the chance to date a gorgeous woman who just made junior partner, and I’m sure at least one of them isn’t a raging psychopath.”

“But the normal ones lack a certain,” she waved a hand, “fire.”

“You need therapy.”

“Well we can’t all be raised alongside our soulmate, can we?” She nudged Dani with her arm. “How are things there?”

 _Empty. Unrequited. I’m a coward._ “Good, things are, um,” she sipped her drink, “things are fine.”

“Fine? Your wedding is in a matter of days and things are _fine_?” She gave Dani a look.

Fortunately at that precise moment one of Edmund’s aunts leaned forward across the table and asked Rebecca and Dani how they’d become friends.

“We were all in school together in Boston,” Rebecca said with her brilliant smile.

The aunt perked up. “Another MIT graduate?”

“Harvard, with Dani actually.”

Just like the woman yesterday, Edmund’s aunt fixed a polite smile on her face and said, “Harvard. How nice.”

Something snapped in Dani. “It’s harder to get in,” she said before she could stop herself. “To Harvard. Twice as hard, actually. If you’re going by acceptance rates.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rebecca smirk into her drink.

Just then there was a commotion by the door and another relative, Edmund’s cousin Viola stepped out onto the veranda.

“Sorry I’m late!” Her voice was loud and she swayed a bit when she handed her jacket to one of the staff.

“No one missed you dear,” the aunt across the table mumbled, low enough so that only Dani and Rebecca could hear.

But Dani was happy to see Viola, if only because as the consummate black sheep she’d draw the eyes and the gossip away from herself. It was a small thing, but a relief all the same.

That afternoon Dani and Rebecca took a walk around the grounds, catching up. And if Dani happened to steer them in the direction of the greenhouse it was subconscious. Mostly.

They talked about Rebecca making junior partner and buying her first place—a loft in Tribeca that she’d paid through the nose for. Dani felt herself living vicariously through all the milestones in Rebecca’s life. All the things she’d achieved with her own two hands, no help from anyone else. Rebecca had lost her parents at fifteen, it was probably one of the reasons they’d bonded so closely, and Dani had often wondered if she’d been thrown out into the world and forced to sink or swim as Rebecca had, whether she would’ve managed to claw her way to the top the same way. She also wondered sometimes if Rebecca ever quietly judged her, the privileged way she’d been able to just drift.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be Lady Wingrave of this massive estate!” She squealed, spinning around to look back at the manor.

“Judy’s Lady Wingrave, I’m just,” Dani shrugged, “me.”

“But one day, I mean. I’m trying not to be insanely jealous, but Dani! You get to live here forever and have babies and spend your days worrying over holiday parties and bouquets for the foyer—”

“What are you talking about?” Dani gave her a playful shove. “How could you possibly be jealous, Ms. Junior Partner and Official Homeowner?”

“Yeah but this is like, fairytale stuff,” Rebecca gestured at the house, “like a Jane Austen novel.”

“I don’t—” Dani stopped short.

About fifty yards away Jamie was talking with Viola, who was leaning against the greenhouse wall, arms crossed and head thrown back in laughter at something Jamie said. Viola said something in return that had Jamie nodding and toeing the ground with her boot, and Viola responded by reaching out and tugging on Jamie’s sleeve, taking a step toward her until there was barely room between them.

“Dani?”

“Hmm?” She glanced at Rebecca. “Oh sorry. No, it’s just—Viola. She’s um. Kind of a loose cannon. Looks like she’s cornered the gardener.”

“The gardener doesn’t seem to mind though, does she?”

Well. That was exactly the opposite of helpful.

“Come on,” Dani said, “it’s probably late enough to have a real drink without Aunt Moira having something to say about it.”

***

The next day was the stag party and it seemed like Edmund and the others were drunk by breakfast. The night before Dani had caught Rebecca in an alcove by the stairs with Peter, and after surrendering to the lost cause that was her best friend she decided to encourage her to go along to the stag when Peter asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not going to go and leave you here,” Rebecca gushed, but she followed it up with an expectant pause that made it obvious she was just being polite.

“No, you should definitely go, Edmund’s aunts have a tea thing planned with me and I’m pretty sure it’s just going to be an interrogation about when we plan to start trying for a baby, so. Honestly, go. Save yourself.”

“You are the _best_ ,” Rebecca hugged her, “and I swear I’ll be back on Maid of Honor duty first thing tomorrow. I owe you one.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving you and Peter my blessing though—”

“Love you!” Rebecca called down as she darted upstairs to her guest room.

“Not kidding, Becs! He’s poison!” Dani shouted after her. “Make better choices!”

When Dani arrived in the sitting room for tea that night she found Edmund’s aunts sitting side by side on the black settee with a teetering stack of family photo albums piled on the low table in front of them. 

“Prudence and I thought there could be no better way to spend the evening than to take you on the Wingrave journey, starting back with Edmund’s great-great-great-great-great-Grandfather Horatio Wingrave the first,” Aunt Moira said, opening the top album. “Of course the first couple books are just snapshots of oil paintings, we really won’t get to photos until the third album, circa 1865.” She patted the settee and looked at Dani expectantly.

Just then Hannah appeared in the doorframe, clearing her throat softly. “Miss Clayton, I was looking for you! It’s nearly eight o’clock, you may want to change before we leave.”

“Leave?” Dani glanced at the aunts then back to Hannah.

“Your hen night,” Hannah smiled, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten…?”

Dani had never loved the woman more than she did in that moment. She excused herself from the tea room and followed Hannah across the foyer into the kitchen.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. That was—” Dani shook her head and when she met Hannah’s eyes they both had to stifle a laugh.

“It wasn’t entirely a false alarm,” Hannah said, toying with the bracelets on her wrist. “You remember Owen?”

“Owen—Owen Sharma?”

Hannah was nodding. “He’s back in Bly. He opened up a little restaurant downtown a while back and he’s given me strict instructions to deliver you there this evening for a toast.”

For the first time since coming home, Dani felt a genuine smile take hold.

“Give me ten minutes to change,” she said, rushing out but turning back at the door, “and you’re joining us, no arguments!”

Hannah put up her hands, smiling. “Oh, I never argue.”

All the other shops along the quaint stretch of downtown Bly had closed for the evening, making Owen’s restaurant stand out with its flickering lantern and warm glow emanating from the thick paned windows. The exterior was painted black and a rough wooden planter box hung below the window. There was a hanging sign— _The Good Thyme_ , it said.

Dani smiled to herself. _Of course._ It was Owen through and through.

Owen had been the cook at Bly for several years and during summers when Dani and Edmund were home from Radley they would spend nights in the kitchen with him, the willing guinea pigs for his many culinary experiments which always came alongside a heaping serving of jokes and stories. Then she and Edmund moved to Boston for college and stopped coming home in the summer, and one day during a phone call home Judy casually mentioned that Owen had left for culinary school in Paris. Dani had always regretted not being able to say goodbye.

Hannah checked her appearance in the mirror by the entrance when they walked in, which was interesting. She was also wearing dark red lipstick, a look Dani had never seen on her in all the years she’d known her. Very interesting. 

Dani had opted for a simple black dress, one of the only formal outfits that wasn’t sitting in storage in the states. Her hair was down and she hadn’t put on anything more than mascara, but seeing Hannah dressed up she wondered for a moment if perhaps she’d underdone it.

The restaurant was all rough wood and warm lighting, plants and lanterns hanging here and there.

Owen appeared behind the bar at the far end of the room, wiping his hands on his apron, a brilliant smile beneath his impressive mustache.

“Why Dani Clayton, as I live and breathe!”

“Owen! It’s been ages!” She wrapped him in an awkward hug over the bar. “And you own a restaurant!” She looked around. “This place is amazing!”

“Thank you,” he put his hands over his heart, “a dream come true for me, this place. And look at you! A blushing bride!”

“Oh—no, I mean. I don’t know about blushing.”

Fortunately Owen seemed to assume she was being humble rather than evasive and he turned his attention to Hannah, giving her cheek a kiss and winking at her before getting to work behind the bar, making small talk as he set out a cheese and charcuterie board. Dani and Hannah settled onto stools and watched as Owen began crafting a cocktail he said he’d invented especially for the evening’s festivities.

“Tell us what you’re doing here,” Dani gestured before resting her head on her fist, watching him closely.

“Well,” he conjured a pear from somewhere below the bar and started slicing it, stopping to point the knife at Dani when he said, “I haven’t forgotten how much you loved my pear cobbler.” He looked at Hannah. “Do you remember? Every time I made it, this one here would consume the entire dish herself.”

“I would not!” Dani laughed. “You always cut slices for everyone else before I could get to it.”

“A preemptive measure! I didn’t fancy having to pry the dish from your greedy hands, you might’ve bitten me.”

“That’s fair, actually” Dani said with a nod.

“And now that you’re of age,” he grabbed several bottles from the ledge behind him, “and perhaps less likely to bite,” he started pouring this and that into a shaker, “tonight I’m making you pear cobbler—in a cocktail.”

“Yes please to that,” Dani said, leaning in even closer.

Hannah shook her head. “Baking, cooking, tending bar. You do it all.”

He swiped a dollop of whipped spread across a piece of baguette from the cheese board and popped it in his mouth, winking at Hannah. “You butter believe it.”

“Don’t start,” Hannah said, but she was looking at him with an affection that Dani definitely needed to ask her about later.

Owen took three glasses and ran them under water before rolling the rims in what appeared to be some kind of crumbled strudel. He lined the glasses up side by side and filled them with ice before pouring his concoction in, garnishing each with a sugar-coated pear slice.

“And the final touch,” he said, firing up a butane torch and caramelizing the pears.

“Gracious, this is involved.” Hannah’s hand was on her cheek.

“It’s an art form, milady,” he said, serving Hannah the first glass. “Now, there’s a table over there,” he pointed across the restaurant, “all ready for us. Why don’t you bring your drinks over there and I’ll fire up some tunes.” He pulled off his apron and began fiddling with his phone, which seemed to be hooked up to the restaurant’s speaker system because a moment later music filled the room.

“Is—is this Cyndi Lauper?” Dani shot him a look and a laugh.

“Do you have something against Cyndi?” Owen said, looking personally offended. “It’s an 80s list, all the greats are on there. To the table with you, Clayton.”

The heavy tumblers were full to the brim and coated in condensation so Dani lifted it carefully and turned slowly, sipping a bit off the top. _Delicious._ But the very moment she turned around Jamie Taylor walked in through the restaurant’s door, and when Dani saw her the drink slid right out of her grasp, shattering on the floor and rocketing bits of glass, cocktail and pear in every direction.

“Blimey.”

“Oh, God—Owen, I’m so sorry, I—all that work—”

“No harm done,” Owen laughed, “I’ll whip another batch up right now, seeing Miss Taylor’s finally decided to join us.”

Jamie bent down to pick pieces of glass up from the floor and Dani rushed to help her.

“You’re here—I didn’t know you were coming,” Dani tried to sound indifferent when she said it.

“Have Hannah to thank for that,” Jamie tipped her head toward the woman now bringing them a roll of paper towels. “Or scold, rather. Reckon I shouldn’t assume.”

“Jamie told me you two spent some time catching up the other day,” Hannah said, “and I thought, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, definitely, it’s good, it’s—I’m glad you’re here.”

Jamie smirked and stood, offering Dani a hand.

It really hadn’t been Dani’s fault, the whole broken glass thing. How was she supposed to keep her cool when Jamie was dressed like _that?_ Combat boots and black trousers with a pair of suspenders over a white tee shirt that hugged her torso in a way that left nothing to the imagination. Her curls were pulled back and held in place by a newsboy hat which really had no right to be as ridiculously attractive as it was.

Owen put two fresh drinks on the bar top and nodded at Jamie. “Are you here for drinks young man or is this just part of your normal paper route?”

Jamie took a sip of the drink and sent Owen a two-fingered salute. “It’s a look. You’re one to talk,” she gestured at his plaid button up, tucked into his khaki trousers.

“I like it,” Dani said, and everyone looked at her. “The look.”

“Yeah?” Jamie arched an eyebrow and raised her glass. “Cheers.”

An hour of small talk and laughter flew by in what seemed like a minute, maybe because Dani was having the best time she’d had in a year, but more likely the pear cobbler was to blame. It’d gone down like fruit juice and the edges of her brain were delightfully fuzzy.

“Drinking games,” Owen said, delivering another round of drinks to the table and sliding back into the booth alongside Hannah, “what kind of drinking games do they play on hen nights?”

“I don’t know that they do,” Hannah said, “at least not in the more civilized circles.”

Jamie snorted.

“We could though,” Dani said, “we should do _something_ uncivilized.” She could sense Jamie eyeing her with interest.

“That’s proper pear pressure, that is,” Owen said, raising his glass and gasping dramatically at Hannah’s playful shove.

Dani smiled at them. “I just mean Edmund and all of them out for the stag night—they’re not meant to be home until tomorrow and I doubt they’re keeping things…classy.”

Owen patted the table by her hand. “I very much doubt Edmund is the sort of bloke who would make that sort of mistake, even on his stag night—”

“Oh, I didn’t mean—” Dani let out a sharp laugh. “I’m not worried about that.” She hadn’t even thought about it. And now that she _was_ thinking about it, she found that the thought didn’t bother her at all. There may have even been some tiny, niggling part in the back of her mind that hoped Edmund _did_ do something reckless. For his sake.

“Of course you’re not,” Hannah said, sending a scolding glance in Owen’s direction.

Things were teetering on the brink of awkward and maybe Jamie sensed it because she slammed a hand down on the table and said, “Never have I ever done anything uncivilized.” She looked around the table with an arched eyebrow, then grinned before taking a drink.

Dani clinked glasses with Owen before they took twin sips.

“Oh come off it Hannah, reckon even you’ve got a wild side,” Jamie said, nodding at Hannah’s untouched drink.

“I’m the very picture of civility, thank you,” Hannah said.

“But there was that one time, when I was working at Bly,” Owen was looking down at his hands, “and you—”

“Hush!” Hannah said, laughing as she took a sip. Her cheeks were an interesting shade of red.

“Wait, what’d she do?” Dani looked at Owen.

“She drank,” he gestured, “wouldn’t be fair if I outed her now.”

Hannah sent him a conspiratorial smile and Dani was more certain than ever that there was something more than friendship between them.

“You’re turn, Sharma,” Jamie said.

“Alright let’s see,” Owen squinted at the ceiling. “Never have I ever stolen nationally protected flowers from the Royal Botanical Gardens.”

Jamie made a face. “Now that’s just a personal attack is what that is.” She took a drink.

“You stole flowers from the Royal Botanical Gardens?” Dani asked.

“It was a limited exhibit of rare flowers and it was nearly the first frost, they were done for. Hopped the fence with a bucket and spade and I rescued a couple.”

“ _Rescued_ ,” Owen chuckled.

Jamie kicked him under the table before turning back to Dani. “Planted them in the hedge maze. Red helleborine, it’s an orchid of sorts. Could show you sometime. We could take a walk maybe, if you ever want to—”

“Careful there,” Hannah said with a gentle smile, “she’s almost a married woman.”

“Almost,” Jamie echoed, and it felt like she was really trying to say was hidden in the silence that followed. It made Dani’s stomach flip and sent heat into her face.

“My turn, I suppose,” Hannah said. “Never have I ever…oh, I don’t know, been to jail.”

Jamie’s hand dropped from where it’d been resting on top of her cap. “You lot are shite friends.” She drank.

Dani tried to do it quickly, when everyone was looking at Jamie, but Jamie noticed. Of course she did.

“Poppins…did you just drink?”

“What? I—I mean, I did, but not—” Her cheeks were on fire and she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yeah, I did. I drank.”

“Dani!” Hannah said, looking thoroughly scandalized and also a little bit concerned. “What happened?”

“I got arrested in college.” Dani shrugged and tried to stop giggling. Her brain was feeling fuzzier by the minute.

Owen’s jaw slid open. “You are so much cooler than we’ve been giving you credit for!”

“Okay, story time. Hang on,” Jamie turned her entire body on the booth, drawing up her legs to sit cross-legged, facing Dani, “okay. Tell.”

Dani turned to face her too, plastering an innocent look on her face. “I drank. Wouldn’t be fair to out myself now.”

“No, not fair. Make a deal—I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” Jamie was looking at her with immense interest.

Dani rolled her eyes up to the ceiling like she was considering it. She was going to tell, in reality the truth of it wasn’t all that much of a secret, but having Jamie on the edge of her seat was oddly satisfying.

“Alright, fine. But you first.”

Jamie grinned. “Deal. Here it is. Ran with a rough crowd for a few years before I found my way back to Bly. Drugs and the like. Got in the habit of nickin’ things here and there, all of us workin’ like a gang to find enough to sell to get a fix. One day two of my mates jump a guy. Hadn’t gone that way before—only ever nicked from shops and pockets, but this day they decide to get properly violent. Except the guy they jump can’t fight back. He’s old, has a cane, looked a bit like my grandad, actually. And he cried out for them to stop, said he’d give them what they wanted, but by then the others had started in—four, five of them on top of this frail little man. It was over quick as it started, someone saw, called for the police, everyone scattered. But I was just standing there, fuckin’ frozen. The old man was lyin’ there bleedin’ onto the street so I went to him, tried to be kind, comfortin’, talked to him, like. Told him help was on the way—could hear sirens at that point. Anyway, they got him into the ambulance and off they went, but then they slap cuffs on me and before I know it I’ve got six months for assault. See they’d been after our little group for a while, trackin’ us round for all the petty shite, just waitin’ til they could catch us doin’ somethin’ worse. Never saw the old gang again, but fell in with a worse crowd inside. Got some time added to my sentence. Was screwin’ up left and right til I started therapy. Mandated therapy. Wasn’t pleased about it at first. But in time…and then, when I finally got out, I found my way back to Bly. Started plantin’ things again. Now my life’s proper boring, and I fuckin’ love it.” She stared off for a moment, then seemed to come back to herself. “Sorry, that was more than I meant to say. Strong drinks tonight, Sharma. You’re up, Poppins.”

When Jamie looked over she caught Dani staring. She’d been watching her the entire time she’d been talking, hadn’t been able to look away. It wasn’t fair. She’d made peace with the fact that she was going to be Edmund’s wife. She wasn’t angry about it, she was numb. Numb had gotten her this far. And it wasn’t fair that now, mere days before her wedding, she was starting to _feel._

She shook the thoughts away. “Well, I can’t top that story. At all. Mine is…” _An embarrassing tale of privilege._ But she was in it now, no backing out. “There was a protest near my college, a corporation was trying to, well, I guess they already had started building on sacred land, you know, Native American land, and the tribe members went out to protest. A bunch of people from all over came to protest with them, my friend Rebecca and I went too. But since the land was already bought by the company I guess technically we were all trespassing, so they arrested as many of us as they could. And…yeah. That’s what happened.”

“Jesus, Poppins, no good deed, eh? How long were you in for?”

"Oh, not long.”

“Weeks? Months?”

“No, nothing like that. Um. We—well when our sociology professor heard what’d happened he got the university involved so we didn’t have to stay overnight.”

“So you went to jail for…what, an hour?” Owen looked like he was trying not to smile.

“Alright, alright, it’s a lame story,” Dani laughed.

“No it’s not,” Jamie said. “Bloody heroic, tryin’ to stand with the underdog and all. Poppins, I’m impressed.”

Dani smiled at her. “Thank you. Even if you’re just being nice.”

The game sort of dissolved after that, everyone more content to sip their drinks slowly and share stories of their own volition about this and that. Finally conversation slowed, and Owen said something about a cake.

Dani gaped at him. “Owen, you didn’t!”

“Of course I did, it isn’t a party without cake. Hannah love, would you help me in the kitchen for a moment?”

And then it was just the two of them, Dani and Jamie, as the music changed from an up-tempo Guns N’ Roses song to something a lot slower.

Dani tilted her head. “Is this…?” It was. _Time After Time_.

Jamie shook her head. “That man is quite the Lauper enthusiast, hope it’s not a deal-breaker for Hannah.”

“Are they…?

“Not officially, but they’ve been skirtin’ round it for years. She thinks he’s too young for her, he thinks she’s too good for him. It’ll happen, but in their own time.”

“That’s nice. Sweet.”

Jamie nodded. A silent moment passed where they both looked everywhere but at each other. 

Finally, Jamie cleared her throat. “I’m thinkin’ about askin’ you to dance with me.”

There was that heat in her cheeks again. “Oh yeah?”

“Just not sure how that question would be received.”

“Mmm. It does seem like a gamble.”

“Think I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“Brave.”

“Wish me luck.”

Dani laughed and Jamie stood, extending a hand. “Dance with me?”

The mood had been light, playful, but in that moment something else was behind Jamie’s eyes. There was a seriousness there and it sobered Dani so quickly it may as well have been ice water.

Dani took her hand and stood. “Only because it’s Cyndi.” The last thing she saw as Jamie pulled her in close was her smirk and the faintest hint of red on her cheeks.

She’d never slow danced with a woman before. Maybe it should’ve felt different, strange, but it didn’t. It felt good, Dani realized, dancing with someone her own height. Her own size. It felt equal. It felt right.

Jamie’s arm was curled around her waist to rest on the small of her back, their other hands were entwined midair, and Dani reached up to rest her hand on Jamie’s neck. They swayed to the music, turning in a lazy circle.

Dani could feel Jamie’s eyes on her, but they were so close, she was afraid of what might happen if she met her gaze.

The music swelled and there was a slight pressure on Dani’s back. Jamie, pulling her closer. Their heads were side by side, and all it took was a quiet sigh for Dani to surrender and let her temple rest against Jamie’s. Then Jamie’s lips were at her ear.

“Is this okay?”

It was all Dani could do to keep from shivering. She nodded.

Her body was at war with itself, she wanted to run, she wanted to never leave. Her brain was full of static noise that did nothing to drown out the frantic thoughts. Her nerve endings were on fire, her ear was still tingling with the memory of Jamie’s lips.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the looming wedding, but all at once Dani felt reckless and she stepped closer, pressing their bodies together until all they could do was sway in place. She let her fingertips trail over the curls gathered at the nape of Jamie’s neck, and in a bold move that felt so unlike her, she slid her fingers up into Jamie’s hair.

She felt more than heard Jamie’s small gasp. Felt when she stopped swaying.

There was a question hanging between them and they both felt it.

Jamie pulled back just enough to rest her temple against Dani’s cheek. “Dani, what—”

The kitchen door swung open and they moved away from each other like teenagers, caught by a parent. Owen and Hannah, to their credit, didn’t say a word.

They ate cake and helped Owen clean up and Dani spent the entire time pretending she didn’t feel Jamie’s eyes burning into her. Finally, when it was good and late, everyone said their goodnights.

“Drive you home?” Jamie asked casually, stepping out onto the street behind Dani.

“Oh, I—” Dani looked over at Hannah, unlocking her car door. “I came with Hannah, so—”

“Mind if I take her off your hands then, Hannah? Have a few weddin’ related questions, still figurin’ the floral arrangements and I need—”

Hannah was giving Jamie a look, like she was daring her to go on, to keep bullshitting her. Jamie had the good sense to shut her mouth.

“Dani’s a grown woman,” Hannah said. “She can go home with whoever she’d like.”

God, of course Hannah was making her decide. She knew. She’d probably known even before she saw them dancing.

“I mean, if Jamie has questions about the wedding…” _Lame._

Thankfully Hannah didn’t drag the moment out. She simply asked Jamie if she was okay to drive, then nodded and said she’d see them both tomorrow.

And then Dani was climbing into the passenger’s seat of Jamie’s truck and they were bouncing down the dark country road. The silence filled the car like smoke and set Dani’s ears ringing. It was a long while before either of them spoke.

“Nervous?” Jamie asked quietly.

“Huh?”

Jamie nodded at Dani’s hand, which was by her mouth. Chewing her nails again. She hadn’t even realized.

“Oh, no—it’s—” Dani shoved her hand under her leg. “Bad habit.”

More silence.

Finally, “Can I ask you somethin’?”

"About the floral arrangements?”

Jamie didn’t look at her, she just smirked at the road ahead. “No, not about that.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Why’re you marryin' him?”

“I-I mean I’ve known him forever, I love him. I’m…happy.”

“Mmm. Practically burstin’ with joy.”

“It’s normal to be nervous.”

“Is it normal to be miserable?”

“Well how would you know?” She hadn’t meant to be loud but the alcohol was making her impulsive and she didn’t want to be having this conversation. But her mouth just kept moving, her tone still accusatory. Deflecting, really. “Have you even been in a committed relationship? There’s all sorts of ups and downs. You do an awful lot of judging for someone whose greenhouse basically had a revolving door when we were teenagers.”

Jaime just smiled, so Dani kept poking.

“Surprised you ever got anything done, to be honest. Hard to dig holes in garden beds when you’re more interested in the holes in your own bed.”

Jaime looked at her, one eye squinted. “Was that a lesbian joke, Poppins?”

“Maybe.”

“Well it was shite.”

They both laughed then, and the mood in the truck lightened. Jamie didn’t push the matter, and when they pulled into the driveway of the estate and parked they sat for a moment, waiting in the dark silence.

Then they both spoke at once.

“Sorry,” Jamie said, “go on.”

“No, you.” Dani said. Because she hadn’t really had anything to say, she’d just wanted to fill the silence herself before Jamie could fill it with words like _goodnight_ or _see you around._ She wasn’t ready for the night to end.

Jamie was doing the thing she did, Dani was learning, when she was weighing her options, fighting a battle in her own mind. Lips pursed, forehead creased. She never did finish her thought, so finally Dani spoke instead.

"Can I—” It was the pear cobblers, Dani decided, making her say it. “Can I come over? To the greenhouse—to your house? For a little?”

Jamie swallowed. “Poppins—”

“Please?”

Jamie looked at her then, and Dani was struck by the way the shadows fell across her face, the way the moonlight caught in the bow of her lips. She was fit, Dani had recognized that on some level back when they were fifteen. But she was also beautiful. Stunning, even. It showed in moments like this when she was soft and unsure. When she’d taken off the brass and swagger like a coat, something she wore for protection, Dani suspected. 

“Still have your clothes. They’re dry now.” Jamie gave the slightest shrug. “Could come back with me to get them.” Another shrug, even smaller than the first. “If that’s what you want.”

Dani felt herself nodding, a smile pulling at her cheeks. “Okay.”

“Alright then.”

And then they were out of the truck, Jamie’s hands shoved into her pockets, looking down at the moonlit ground, leading Dani back to the greenhouse in a silence tangled with the tendrils of this thing, whatever it was, that they were letting grow between them. 


	4. Chapter 4

The greenhouse tables were covered in ribbons and vases, an assortment of odds and ends that hadn’t been there the other day.

“What is all this?” Dani picked up a spool of paisley silk.

“For your weddin’.” Jamie said it with disinterest, already fiddling with the keys at the hut’s door.

“You’re—really? You’re doing the flowers?” Dani looked at her. “I thought you just said that to Hannah because…”

“Poppins, your hands off approach to matrimony is downright mystifyin’.” She held the door open, let Dani walk in ahead of her. “Did you have a say in any of it? The dress? The groom?”

Dani rolled her eyes at her as she walked past and Jamie snickered.

“So,” Jamie said. “How about tea?”

A little while later they were waiting for the kettle to boil, watching a small flame take to the logs in the fireplace.

Dani’s head was still spinning, her cheeks were still warm. It was like the alcohol hadn’t all hit at once, like it was still catching up to her now. She swayed on her feet and reached out to catch herself on Jamie’s arm.

Jamie chuckled and Dani smiled at the sound.

“Tonight was fun. Wasn’t tonight fun?”

“Heaps,” Jamie said, still seemingly amused by Dani’s swaying. She was leaned back against the doorframe between the small kitchen and living space, and it was all too easy for Dani to lean in, rest her head against Jamie’s shoulder.

“Comfortable.”

“Yeah? Don’t get too comfortable, kettle’s about to sound.”

“Jamie?”

"Yeah?”

“You smell good. You smell like—honeysuckle? Is that? That’s not—it’s more like earth. Not dirt but like _earth._ Like the air and the trees and the wind and the grass. And also maybe honeysuckle? I don’t really know what that smells like though, so.”

“Poppins—”

Dani was nuzzling her, she knew she was, and on some level she was aware enough to know that sober, she’d be mortified with herself. As it stood, Jamie was warm. And she smelled like maybe honeysuckle.

“Poppins—hey, hang on, Poppins,” she was gentle as she struggled to put space between them. “Dani.”

Dani turned away, scrubbing her hands up into her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, you’re just—you’ve had a bit to drink, yeah? Maybe we can just sit for a bit. Talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. That would be good.” Dani sighed, turning to find Jamie perched on the arm of the couch leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, just watching her. “Sorry. I just—” She shook her head. “God. I had…yeah. A lot to drink. And my brain is…a fish bowl? That doesn’t—I’m hearing my words and they don’t—but it’s sloshing up there like maybe there’s fish—” She suddenly pointed at Jamie. “You _drove_! Droved? Driveded…”

Jamie was smiling up at her. “I driveded because I can hold my drink a hell of a lot better than you, apparently. Not a very high bar you’ve set, though.”

Dani shook her head, agreeing. “It’s not.”

“Why don’t you come sit down before you spill your fishes.”

Dani walked around Jamie’s legs and plopped down on the couch, letting her head fall back and roll to face Jamie’s back. “So what’re we talking about?”

The kettle whistled and Jamie went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with steaming tea cups. She handed Dani one and rested the on a nearby table, sitting back down on the couch’s arm, this time with her feet on the cushion, facing Dani.

“Let’s see,” Jamie said, reaching out to help Dani steady the teacup when she nearly spilled. “I’ve always wanted to live in Vermont.” She arched an eyebrow at Dani. “Not just visit, but live. Long enough to see all four seasons, at least.”

It was a crumb, Dani realized, and drunk as she was she didn’t want to forget it. Like the story she’d told about being arrested when she was younger. Little tidbits of truth that Dani was starting to collect like items on a scavenger hunt. Maybe if she could collect them all she’d see the whole of Jamie, who she was beneath the smooth protective surface. She smiled at her, trying to urge her to say more but she really had had a lot to drink and the look she was giving clearly wasn’t doing the job because suddenly Jamie was shaking her head.

“Stupid, really. Probably far more excitin’ places—”

“No! No, Vermont’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You’ve been?” 

“Skiing a couple times. But never in the fall, and that’s when—”

“The leaves, yeah?”

Dani nodded and Jamie beamed.

“That’s what I’m really keen to see. Leaves like fire.” She nudged Dani’s leg with her boot. “You’re turn.”

“For what?”

“We’re tellin’ secrets here, Poppins, keep up.”

"Oh. Oh! Okay.” Her mind really did feel waterlogged. She hated that she’d gotten this drunk, if only because she didn’t want to forget a moment of this tomorrow. She tried to think. “I don’t have…” _Secrets._ She scrunched her nose. “That’s not true, I do have a secret.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“I—” Dani closed her mouth. Jamie was looking at her, a bit like she was expecting one truth in particular to come out. But that wasn’t something Dani could let herself say. Even if she’d just slow danced with a woman and practically bullied her into being invited over. There was a line there, a line they were both being careful not to cross. Careful-ish, anyway. “I’ve always wanted to go camping.”

Jamie looked genuinely surprised. “No bullshit? That’s, um. Wouldn’t’ve guessed.”

“Why not?” Dani made a show of being offended. “I like the outdoors. I’m not—” She made a vague gesture with her hands. “I can be rugged.”

That earned a hearty laugh, Jamie’s eyes lighting up. “Rugged. Alright then. So you’ve always _wanted_ to go camping—what, do they not have tents in America?”

“They do, but.” She nibbled her lip. “There’s more to the secret.”

Jamie waited, an eyebrow raised. The fire crackled, they both watched the logs shift and for the first time in, well, ever, Dani wanted to tell the other half of the truth. The rest of it.

“I was supposed to have a camp out with Edmund for my eighth birthday. When it…when everything happened.”

“Jesus, Dani, that’s—”

“I’d been asking for months, I think I saw The Parent Trap? You know, the movie? Oh. It’s not important it’s just, they go camping in it and it looked, I don’t know—new? Fun. So for my birthday my mom said Edmund and I could camp out in the yard, but then my dad—he was always big with ideas? He said he’d do me one better—he wanted to build me a treehouse, somewhere safe where I could have as many campouts as I wanted.” It was more than she’d ever told anyone before. Edmund knew the story but they never talked about it. Dani had never wanted to before. But this. This easy conversation, with this near stranger who was looking at her with kind eyes and palpable empathy. She was making it easy, almost, for Dani to break the seal on the casket. “The day before my birthday my dad was putting the finishing touches on the treehouse. My parents had me spend the day with the Wingraves so I wouldn’t peek—they were coming and going from our house all day, my mom had sewn tiny curtains and everything. I was supposed to go home after dinner.” She could still remember the color of the bowl she’d eaten spaghetti from. The grass stain on Edmund’s arm. Details, branded into her memory. A log suddenly caught a draft of air and the flame began flickering wildly, softly fluttering and filling the silence. “I don’t usually talk about this.”

“Don’t have to. But…you can. I’m listenin’. I want to listen.”

“My dad called the Wingraves to ask if I could stay longer. He’d just realized how unfinished it looked—the treehouse, I mean, with all its wood unpainted. So he and my mom were going to pop down to the shops for paint, try to find somewhere still open. It was supposed to be a surprise but I heard him on the phone with Hannah. We were in the kitchen and it’s not hard to—but no one knew, I don’t think. No one knows that I heard.” She glanced at Jamie. “When Hannah told Judy, Judy said I should just stay the night. It went back and forth but then someone rang back with permission, probably my mom. They’d see me in the morning. And that was it. Then Henry found their car in the lake just after sunrise. They’d driven off the road, hit their heads. The perfect storm, I kept hearing people say when they thought I wasn’t listening. The perfect storm. They’d veered off at just the right spot—the hill is steep right there, the car would’ve just…kept rolling. Do you—do you think it’s still painful to drown if you’re unconscious?”

Jamie didn’t answer right away, and when she did her voice was rough and soft. “Don’t know, Poppins. Would like to think it was peaceful for them.”

“I almost googled it once. Drowning while unconscious. To see if it was awful. And when I was younger I used to hold my breath underwater in the bathtub and count. Even when I really pushed myself I could still barely make it to twenty, and it felt so wrong that I could just sit up and breathe again when they hadn’t been able to, so one day I forced myself to stay under. And it felt like acid in my lungs. I mean, it _hurt._ And then, the panic came. It’s like your entire body is screeching, screaming at you, and then it’s just involuntary—you take a breath, even if you don’t want to, you take a breath. And that—breathing in water, that’s. That’s even worse. It burns its way through you like liquid fire and you feel it for days.”

“Christ, Dani.”

“I wish they—” She looked at Jamie. “I didn’t need it to be painted.”

Jamie leaned forward, steepling her hands together and pressing her thumbs to her lips. Then in a flash she was standing, disappearing down the short hallway and reappearing a moment later with a coat which she held out to Dani.

“Come on.”

“What? Where?”

“Got somethin’ to show you.”

She took her hand and led her out, back through the greenhouse, back out into the night.   
When they rounded the back of the house, headed for the tree line and Jamie still hadn’t slowed down, Dani pulled on her hand.

“Seriously, where are you taking me?” She eyed the tree line. The small forest, thick with ash and pine trees, took up the back portion of both the Clayton and Wingrave properties. No man’s land that generations of children from both estates had used as a playground. Dani had always called it the Fairy Forest because of the way the fireflies pulsed and glowed like stardust in the summer. She and Edmund had played there as kids and their fathers had played there before them. There’d still been remnants of a tire swing built by Dani and Edmund’s fathers when they’d been young. And it was where her father had been building the treehouse.

Jamie stepped in front of her. “You don’t need to come the whole way. Just stand at the edge with me and look. Tellin’ you Dani, you need to see this.”

But Dani didn’t move. She’d never seen the treehouse in person. She hadn’t peeked during its construction, even though Edmund had urged her to try, and after, well. She didn’t even look out the back windows if they had a clear view to the little forest, she didn’t want to risk spotting it through the trees.

“I swear to you Dani, you don’t have to go anywhere near it. And if you’re not ready to be out here like this, then,” she smiled, wide and genuine, “we’ll go back. Tell more secrets. Whatever you—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll go with you.” It was just wood and nails. Just atoms and molecules. She could do this.

Jamie walked her to the edge of the Fairy Forest and waited, looking at her expectantly.

“I’m okay.” Dani nodded.

They stepped carefully, the Fairy Forest was overgrown and no clear path had ever been worn into the foliage.

“See all this,” Jamie was pointing, “all this growth along the ground here?”

“What is it?”

“Dodders, it’s called. Fuckin’ horrid little plant. Creeps its way into everythin’, next to bloody impossible to get rid of. Whole backyard is riddled, been tryin’ to wage war with it goin’ on three years now, but.” She shrugged. “Bloody persistent, it is.”

It was everywhere, Jamie wasn’t wrong. Strands of it had wrapped around the ferns, clumped at the trunks of trees. It was like hair, or webs, maybe. A network of yellowish webs, choking everything in its path.

“It’s a parasite, actually. See how it’s crawlin’ up the trees like that? Tryin’ to take them over. No rhyme or reason to the path it takes, it will literally kill everythin’ it comes across.”

“You, uh. Have a real way, don’t you. Of cheering a girl up.”

Jamie looked at her, smiling. “Didn’t bring you here to show you the dodders. Here, look.”

She pointed. About ten feet away, there it was. It was a simple box with an angled roof, a couple windows, several boards nailed into the tree for a ladder. The shock of actually seeing it after all these years was stifling, and Dani stuttered through a deep breath.

“Alright, Poppins?”

She nodded. It was so small. The perfect size for children, but so small. To think she’d been afraid of coming back here for eighteen years.

“Do you see it?” Jamie’s voice was soft.

There was nothing there except for the treehouse and Dani didn’t understand what she was supposed to be seeing, so she turned to Jamie to ask but then she saw it—what Jamie was standing there beaming at.

"It’s...it's flowers,” Dani said, taking an involuntary step forward and feeling completely lightheaded. It was like an invisible forcefield had stopped the dodders, there was a full circle of forest surrounding the treehouse, a boundary that not a single strand of the plant had dared to cross. Instead, there were wildflowers. Yellows and reds and purples and blues and oranges. Jamie was lighting it all with her phone’s flashlight. There were large flowers, small flowers, some that looked like fireworks, tiny blooms exploding from a stem. The flowers wound their way up the untouched ladder, all the way up the sides of the treehouse. There were even flowers on the roof.

“Wildflowers,” Jamie said. “I didn’t plant them. They were just…here, I don’t know. Sun barely hits them, honestly it makes no sense. Shouldn’t’ve been able to grow, but they did. And I didn’t know it was your treehouse, not until tonight, so. I thought you should see.”

Dani reached down and took her hand. Squeezed. “Thank you.”

And then they were facing each other and Jamie was reaching out, picking a leaf from Dani’s hair while Dani watched her, trying to understand how she could’ve spent her entire life at the Wingrave estate with the wrong best friend.

The look Jamie was giving her was full of everything they weren’t saying out loud. Everything that had bloomed between them in three days. _God._ Had it really only been three days? Her eyes closed when Jamie reached out again, cradling Dani’s cheek in her hand.

“I want to kiss you.”

Dani opened her eyes. _I want that too._ “Okay.”

“But I’m not goin’ to.”

“Oh.” Dani nodded. “Okay.” Swallowed. “Why?”

Jamie’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding Dani’s face, trailed down to her hand, finding Dani’s engagement ring and toying with it between her fingers.

“I’m not goin’ to kiss you when it has to be a secret. When it’s somethin’ to be kept in the shadows.” Her thumb traced Dani’s lip, and just that whisper of a touch was searing.

Dani could only stand there and try not to breathe too hard, try not do anything that would bring an end to the moment.

Jamie was watching her thumb move across Dani’s lip, tracing it again and again. “See, when I kiss you, I’m goin’ to want to take my time. Goin’ to need privacy, a locked door, a wall I can back you up against. And I wouldn’t start with your mouth. Would save that. I’d start here,” she let her hand slide down Dani’s neck, brushed a thumb over her collarbone. “And here.” She rubbed her thumb against Dani’s neck, then moved up to just under her jaw, “and here.” Everywhere she touched was electric, buzzing and humming and wanting more. “My hand would be here,” she said, sliding it back around Dani’s head, grabbing a handful of hair and holding, just hard enough for Dani to feel it. “I’d use my teeth here,” she touched Dani’s earlobe with her other hand, “and here,” she touched her neck again. “And here, too.” She touched her fingers to Dani’s lips.

Dani made sure to watch Jamie’s eyes when she parted her lips, drew Jamie’s fingertips into her mouth and bit down, just slightly. Jamie’s eyes glazed over, a muscle worked in her jaw. They finally made eye contact as Dani moved her tongue over the calloused pads of her fingers. Jamie opened her own mouth, her eyes were practically feral and it sent a shiver through Dani. And then Jamie slid her fingers deeper and Dani sucked. The noise Jamie made, somewhere between a soft whine and a moan, sent a throbbing ache straight to Dani’s core.

When Jamie took her fingers out she pressed her forehead to Dani’s on a sigh. “I want you.” It was practically a whisper, and it was full of heat but there was something else there too. Sadness, maybe.

“I want—” Dani said.

Jamie looked at her, waiting. But there were a million ways to finish that sentence and maybe the most accurate thing had already been said—Dani _wanted_. Pure and simple. And not.

“Thing is,” Jamie said softly, “I don’t fancy lookin’ over my shoulder, havin’ to take a swing at your fiancé if he shows up. I want you, already said I did. But I want you free. And you’re not free.”

Jamie stepped back with a shrug, sliding her hands into her pockets.

And honestly, what could Dani say to that? It was like she’d been thrust centerstage, spotlight blinding, completely unprepared. It wasn’t fair, the timing of it. It was cruel, really.

“I, um. I—” Her hand was on her forehead while Jamie watched from a short distance. “Jamie, I _can’t._ ”

The wedding was in days. _Days._ What was she supposed to do? Call it off because forty-eight hours ago she realized she’d really rather like to fuck the brains out of the gardener? She’d spent a lifetime preparing for the role of Edmund’s wife. There were people depending on her to follow through. The Wingraves had given her everything. _Everything._ And they hadn’t asked for a single thing in return except her loyalty. She had to be loyal. It was all she had to offer the only family she had.

Jamie was nodding, reaching into her pocket for a lighter and cigarette. Avoiding Dani’s eyes. “Should go. ‘S late. I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Jamie—”

“Look. I don’t get it, alright? I don’t. I know how he is, your fiancé, and I thought sure, peas in a pod, those two. But now I know you. A little bit, Dani, a little bit I do. And it makes no fuckin’ sense. You’re better than them. Better than him.” She shook her head. “What are you doin’ here, Dani?”

“Are you—what are you asking me for? Are you honestly asking me to leave my fiancé so we can—what? Kiss? Fuck? You want me to give up my entire—”

Suddenly Jamie was closing the distance between them, purpose in her steps and fire on her face. “I’m not askin’ you for shite. Unlike them,” she raised an arm, pointing at the dark house behind them, “I don’t expect a single fuckin’ thing from you. If I woke up tomorrow and heard you’d buggered off in the night, left a note tellin’ Edmund to fuck off, never follow you, turned your bloody weddin’ dress into a pyre on the front lawn, I’d fuckin’ celebrate. I would. If I never saw you again, knowin’ you were free of this bullshite? It’d be enough.”

It was too much. The drinks and the heat and the treehouse and the words, all these words. Words no one had ever said to her before. Dani’s eyes were prickling so she looked up at the starry sky, counted constellations because she wouldn’t cry for this.

But Jamie knew. She knew the tears Dani was fighting because she seemed to see everything, every part of her, and then she was reaching out, furrowed brow, soothing and soft.

“Dani, I didn’t—”

“No.” She stepped back, out of Jamie’s reach. “It’s not fair.” She shook her head, meeting Jamie’s eyes and not caring if the tears spilled over. “It’s too late. You’re too late. You don’t get to make me feel guilty or—or stupid, or, or _weak_ —"

Jamie’s voice had steel in it. “I never said you were weak, Clayton.”

Dani swiped at her eyes, angry at her tears. _Clayton._ It was odd, the timing of it. She was a Clayton. She was every bit their equal. She summoned every ounce of strength she had.

She looked Jamie in the eye. “It’s probably better if we don’t see each other again. Like this. Alone.”

There was a wry smirk on Jamie’s face, a sneer, and it felt like being punched in the gut. So she looked away, past Jamie, to the house, and she headed out of the forest, across the lawn to the nearest door. Slowly enough that no one could accuse her of running away. Fast enough to avoid the desperate temptation to turn back.


	5. Chapter 5

It was the alcohol. Vile, repulsive swill disguised as a delicious drinkable dessert. It’d turned a perfectly fine evening with a potential friend, a _real_ potential friend, into—whatever that had been. Dani stood under the shower’s spray in a fog of steam, letting the scalding water pink her skin. She kept having flashbacks. Cringe inducing flashbacks. The image of herself pressing into Jamie’s neck last night in the hut, nuzzling her, smelling her, practically unhinging her fucking jaw and swallowing her whole like a goddamn anaconda.

Her head was throbbing and the mere idea of drying her hair—the combing, the bending this way and that, the noise of the dryer—it was enough to make her nauseous. She toweled it, threw it up in a messy bun and swallowed down two more paracetamol. The two she’d taken earlier had barely taken the edge off.

Through the fogged window she could see someone moving about the backyard. She wiped the glass with a forearm. Jamie was there with a hatchet and a wheelbarrow, chopping away at something near the tree line. Dani sighed. Another image flashed. Jamie, with a fist full of Dani’s hair. _When I kiss you, I’m goin’ to want to take my time._

Someone who sounded an awful lot like Peter Quint bellowed her name from downstairs, but the group of them weren’t due back until noon. She looked at her phone. _Oh._ 12:15 already.

Downstairs she found the lot of them, most of them still wearing the clothes they’d left in the day before and looking like they hadn’t slept a wink despite the fact that Edmund had splurged on several hotel rooms at the Shangri-La. Rebecca was at the kitchen table nursing a mug of tea, staring blankly ahead but wincing when Dani turned on the light.

“So,” Dani said, plunking into the chair across from her and resting her face on her chin, “did we have fun last night?” The paracetamol was finally kicking in and she giggled at her friend’s groan before going to the junk drawer to rummage for some tablets she could give to Rebecca.

“It’s a long story,” Rebecca said with a voice coated in gravel, “but Edmund is no longer welcome on the Eye.”

“The—the London Eye?”

Rebecca nodded then closed her eyes and covered her mouth like she was going to be sick. Dani slid the tablets across the table and Rebecca took them a moment later when the nausea seemed to pass.

Dani went to the cupboard for some bread. Plain toast was exactly what they needed. “I thought you guys were doing the whole speakeasy thing and then maybe a burlesque? How’d you end up at the Eye? Edmund hates South Bank.”

Rebecca’s hands were over her face as she shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. All I remember is Peter and Edmund got into a pissing match over who could free climb higher and now,” she splayed her hands, her eyes still closed, “no more Eye.”

Peter and Edmund seemed to be the only two people who’d somehow miraculously dodged a hangover and they chose that moment to burst into the kitchen, singing some MIT fraternity song loudly and dismally out of tune.

Rebecca’s eyes bulged and then squeezed shut at the noise and then her head was on the table.

Edmund came up behind Dani, wrapping her in a massive hug and smacking loud kisses on the side of her face. His face was bristly with the beginnings of a beard but she tried not to shrink away from him.

She patted his arm, still clenched around her like a vice. “I hear fun was had last night, huh?”

Across the table Peter was leaned over Rebecca, who may or may not have been conscious, but he looked up at Dani with huge eyes and nodded dramatically. “An offensive amount of fun was had.”

The toast popped up from the toaster and Dani made a plate for herself and another for Rebecca. Her friend eyed the food, head still flat against the table.

“I will eat that,” Rebecca said, “but only if you cut it up and feed it to me in tiny pieces.”

Peter obliged, popping small bits of toast into her mouth. “Have you told Dani the news, mate?” He looked over at Edmund.

Dani glanced between them. “What news?”

“You should sit down for this,” Edmund tugged her down into his lap. “Talked to Dad this morning and he says…drumroll please, Master Quint—”

Peter drummed his hands on the table, making Rebecca gag.

“We can take the Volante for our honeymoon.”

Dani didn’t react and Edmund seemed to think it was due to lack of understanding. He shook her. “He’s letting us take the car, Dan! The Aston!”

Henry had more than one prized car in his collection but none he loved quite as much as the Aston. Dani had never actually seen Henry _drive_ the car, but every summer he’d pull it out of the car shed and wash it, wax it. Sit in it.

“I’m confused,” Dani said, trying to shift around so she could look at Edmund, who was kissing up and down her arm. “I thought we decided we were holding off on a honeymoon?” 

They had. They had definitely decided that. Eventually they were going to drive to Italy, take several months to do it, stopping here and there along the way. _Eventually._ But Dani had told Edmund she wanted to focus on career stuff first—network with a few contacts near Bly that she didn’t want to wait to reach out to, people with leads on startup business opportunities nearby.

“No I know we’d thought about waiting but Dad doesn’t think we should do a big drive like that in the winter and if we leave right after the wedding we could be back by late fall. And he’s offering us the _Aston._ ”

“I don’t—we didn’t _think_ about waiting, Eddie, we literally decided we weren’t going to go this year.”

“Buzzkillllll.” Peter booed at Dani. He’d stopped gently feeding Rebecca pieces of toast and was now trying to launch them into her mouth from several feet away.

“We can talk about it later,” Edmund said in a low voice, then to the rest of them, “who wants to go see the car?”

Peter raised his hand, leaning forward like a schoolboy and before Dani could say another word Edmund was dragging her out to the car shed alongside Peter and a barely-mobile Rebecca.

Edmund pulled the cover off the Aston with a flare and seemed to revel in Peter’s obscene reaction.

“That is one sexy automobile my friend,” Peter said, making several disturbing gestures with his hands.

“1970 Aston Martin Volante, limited edition, mint condition,” Edmund said.

“Those are a lot of words for ‘overpriced underused red car’.” Dani was hanging back, leaning against the shed’s car door with her arms crossed.

Peter shook his head at her, a cocky smile on his face. “Women don’t understand cars, and here’s why,” he pointed at the vehicle, “nice cars are like the female body. Sleek, perfectly proportioned, curved in all the right places. Sexy,” he touched Rebecca’s waist as he slunk by her. “Men are hardwired to appreciate that sort of thing, and women well, they just see it as competition. They don’t get turned on by the female form the way we do,” he nodded at Edmund.

A laugh barreled out of Dani’s chest before she could stop it and Peter looked at her.

“I’m not wrong about this,” he said, and Rebecca, who seemed to be making a slow recovery, squinted at him and made a disgusted noise in her throat.

Edmund took his time walking Peter around the car, pointing out this and that, telling him about when his grandfather had first bought the prized car.

“My grandfather was obsessed with it, washed it twice a day in the drive, and just imagine my dad—fourteen-years-old and just fucking drooling over this brand new car. So one day my grandfather goes on a business trip, or so my dad thinks, and my dad nicks the keys from his dad’s dresser and takes a little joy ride.”

“Henry fucking Wingrave, balls as big as a bull’s,” Peter clapped his hands together.

“So he takes it out all over Bly, but then when he gets back his dad’s work car is there—his business trip was cancelled. My dad sneaks the Aston back into the shed, wipes it down, puts everything back the way it was. But wouldn’t you know—my grandfather loved this car, he knew every inch of it, and there’s a ding on the front bumper that wasn’t there the day before. So he calls my dad out to the shed and just waits. Doesn’t say a fucking word, just lets him sweat. My dad finally broke down, admitted to taking the car, and his dad made him do grunt work at his office the rest of the summer just to pay to have the dent fixed.”

Peter was laughing at the story and then Edmund was opening the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as Peter slid into the passenger’s.

Dani was about to ask if Rebecca wanted to head back to the house when Viola appeared beside her, poking her head into the shed.

“Hi all,” she said, taking in the scene, Peter and Edmund laughing and being loud in the car, Dani and Rebecca looking miserable. “What are you lot up to?”

“We’re learning about the heteronormative power of automobiles,” Rebecca said.

“Ah.” Viola eyed the car and the rowdy men inside it with confusion, then turned to Dani. “Have you seen Jamie around today?”

Something squirmed in Dani’s stomach. “Jamie the—the gardener Jamie?”

Now Viola was looking at her with confusion. “Yes, the gardener—isn’t she the only Jamie here?”

“Oh, maybe, I don’t—I guess. I didn’t know who you meant at first, I don’t really. Know her. Well.”

“Okay…” Viola waited. “So have you seen her?”

“She’s in the back,” Rebecca said. She was looking nauseous again. “Doing garden things.”

“Thanks.” Viola glanced around the shed one last time before taking off in the direction of the backyard.

“God, her perfume,” Rebecca made a retching noise once Viola was gone. “I need more tablets.”

Dani realized her jaw was clenched to the point of pain. She took a breath and tried to relax. “I don’t think they really need us here,” she nodded towards the car where the boys had now begun making revving engine noises.

Dani linked her arm in Rebecca’s as they headed back to the house and tried not to think too hard about why Viola was looking for Jamie.

That afternoon Mr. Rumbles brought the dress by for a final fitting. Judy banished everyone except for Dani and Rebecca from the foyer.

There was a hallway tucked back behind the foyer’s twin staircases that led to a sunporch, several first floor rooms and a large bathroom where Dani went to change into the dress for Mr. Rumbles appraisal.

She stepped back out to twin gasps from Judy and Rebecca and a delighted squeal from Mr. Rumbles.

“You are a vision, cupcake. And absolute vision.” He walked around her, checking the length of the skirt, the fit of the ribbon sash that cinched around her ribs.

“God, Dani,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.

“Does everything feel right?” Mr. Rumbles asked and _boy._ What a question.

“Yeah, it’s uh, kind of a perfect fit, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Danielle,” Judy said, and there were tears in her eyes.

Hannah stepped out from the kitchen to announce lunch and her breath caught when she saw.

“My goodness, Dani.” She clasped her hands together in front of her face and for a moment it looked like she would cry too. “If only—” She stopped herself, shaking her head and smiling.

 _If only your parents could see you,_ Dani was sure she’d wanted to say.

Eventually the attention shifted to tea and sandwiches in the kitchen and Dani was left to go back and change. Halfway between the sunporch and the bathroom was a small first floor bedroom that had long ago been designated as the storage room. Boxes and books and framed pictures that had never found their way to the wall. There was also a full length mirror, a large one, and Dani stepped inside the room, moving several boxes to get an unobstructed view.

Her hair was still in a messy bun, small tendrils had come loose by her ears, framing her face. She could almost imagine it styled—swept up in an organized chaos of curls with some sort of elegant pin adding just a touch of sparkle.

The dress fit beautifully now. The tulle straps sat perfectly in the dip of her shoulders, framing her collarbone and spreading out and down to cover her breasts, coming together at her stomach where the ribbon marked the beginning of the skirt. It was elegant. Classy, despite the daring neckline. She couldn’t resist a slight twist, left and right, smiling softly at the _swish_.

There was a noise from the doorway and Dani looked up. She could see Jamie reflected in the mirror, standing in the hall right outside the room. She didn’t turn around, she just watched the mirror as Jamie stepped inside, clasped her hands behind her back and rested against the wall by the door.

Jamie whistled, soft and low. “You look…”

Dani smiled at her in the mirror, but the smile faded when she caught sight of herself. She didn’t even look like herself these days. People used to tease her for her full-toothed, nose-scrunched, eyes-squeezed-shut grin. After her parents died she’d spent a summer or two terrified of the dark and Hannah used to say it was silly to be afraid when she could light the entire manor with her smile.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, catching Jamie’s eye in the mirror. “For last night, for—everything.”

“Nah.” Jamie waved it away with a hand. “Too much drink, ‘s all that was.” But her eyes lingered on Dani’s a moment longer before traveling down the length of the dress, coming back up again, pausing at the places that offered glimpses of skin. Jamie cleared her throat. “Dress is stunnin’, Poppins.”

There was a heaviness in the room and Dani just wanted it gone. “You can borrow it any time.”

It worked, earning her a short laugh. “I’ll remember that next time I’m headed to a ball.” She crossed her arms over her overalls and for the first time Dani noticed how toned she was, her biceps giving way to shapely shoulders that disappeared beneath her tank top. Then Dani saw her arms.

“Oh my God! Jamie—!” She whirled around, practically tripping over the dress in her hurry across the room. She pulled Jamie’s arm from behind her back where’d she’d again been attempting to hide them. Her forearms were covered in bright red spots, angry looking splotches that seemed to be spreading to her hands.

Jamie pulled her arm away, scratching at it. “Occupational hazard,” she said, shrugging. “Clearin’ out the back but nothin’ works. I’ve used a rake, a hatchet, a fuckin’ scythe—just about ready to douse it in petrol and light a match. Fuckin’ weeds.” She scratched her other arm. “Was on my way to the loo,” she nodded down the hall, “goin’ to try slatherin’ myself in antihistamines.”

“I’ll help,” Dani said, tugging her toward the door.

“Dani, it’s _fine_ , it’s just a bit of hives—”

“You look like you have the plague, you’re coming with me—” But when Dani spun around, intent on dragging Jamie to the bathroom and dousing her in calamine, she ran right into Henry Wingrave who had suddenly appeared at the door.

“Danielle!” He said, taking in the sight of her in the dress before noticing Jamie. His face immediately changed. “Miss Taylor?”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just—” She pointed down the hall, tried to squeeze by.

“She’s having an allergic reaction,” Dani said, “her arms are—here, look—” She tried to pull Jamie’s arm out to show Henry.

“I’m fine,” Jamie nodded at them both, still attempting to escape down the hall.

“How is that coming?” Henry asked, and for a moment there was confusion until he seemed to grow aggravated, waving a hand in the general direction of the backyard. 

“It’s a mess back there but another hour or so should start tippin’ the scale.” Jamie was scratching at her arm like she was trying remove a layer of skin and Dani couldn’t understand why Henry wasn’t bothered in the least.

“You’ll be sure to have it all cleared by Thursday?” He asked. “They’re coming out Friday with the chairs and tables and Judy will want you out of the way by then.”

“Loud and clear, boss,” Jamie saluted him and went right back to tearing at her arm.

“Wait—” Dani looked between them. “Why the back yard? I thought the—Jamie _stop_ , you’re drawing blood—is this—this isn’t a wedding thing, is it?”

Henry was nodding. “Judy decided the side garden is too small, I’m afraid. I was certain she’d mentioned it to you, Danielle? No? Hmm. Well the matter is settled now, anyway. Judy was concerned about the hedges interfering with photographs. Something about shadows.” He shook his head and made a face like he was just the messenger. “Either way, the back yard is far better suited.”

“But—the side garden,” Dani glanced at Jamie, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment, “Jamie already did all that work—”

“’S fine, Po—Dani, it’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, the side garden had taken ages. Transplanting those rose bushes was a feat in itself, and Dani was sure she’d taken countless thorn stabs along the way. She’d _bled_ for Dani’s stupid wedding venue. Not to mention removing the zen garden, moving all those stones. Weeks she’d been at it, Dani was sure.

“So now she has to clear a lifetime’s worth of weeds from the back in a matter of days? That’s ridiculous—it doesn’t even seem possible—” Dani looked at Henry.

Henry wasn’t a stupid man. She could see the gears turning, see him putting it all together. Dani never took a tone with him, Dani rarely even _saw_ him these days when she visited the manor. The edge in her voice was entirely new, and the only different factor in the equation, the only possible explanation, was Jamie. Something cold crept into Henry’s eyes and the back of Dani’s neck prickled.

“Miss Taylor,” he suddenly snapped, “why don’t you go tend to your little rash, and in the future perhaps you can keep some lotion in your pocket while you work, hmm? Avoid tracking dirt inside. Especially while we have guests.”

Jamie’s eyes flicked to Dani’s. A warning. _Don’t._ She jutted her jaw, nodded. “I’ll do that. Best be off, then.”

Jamie disappeared down the hall and a moment later Dani realized she’d turned left, heading back toward the sunporch’s back door. She’d gone back outside without even getting the medicine. Dani tried to move past Henry but he blocked her, crowded her back into the storage room and shut the door. Her stomach squirmed. She’d always been uneasy around him, especially when he was drinking. Comments that were…strange. Looks that bordered on inappropriate. But this was something else entirely. There was a darkness, an ominous energy that Dani had never felt from him before.

“Danielle, I’ve been meaning to talk to you and this seems the perfect opportunity to broach the subject.”

“Oh?” She squared her jaw, stood up straight. She wouldn’t be afraid of him.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m afraid we’ve muddied the waters a bit, letting you and Edmund grow up fostering a certain…fondness, for the household staff. And I know Hannah has a true affection for you, I know Jamie Taylor grew up on these grounds alongside you and it can be _confusing_ , trying to separate yourself from those…feelings. But you and Edmund are to be the young lord and lady of the manor, and I know it’s all a bit old fashioned but there’s an order to things, you understand. An order, a tradition that we must adhere to. Moving forward I hope you’ll ask the staff to refer to you as Miss Clayton. Set a precedent, if you will. At the very least you’ll insist upon Mrs. Wingrave after the wedding.” He sighed as if his little speech had tired him, as if he regretted having to say it but believed it a necessary evil.

Dani was staring down, not at the floor but just…down. At nothing. Her hand, hidden in the folds of her dress was a tight fist. The sun glinted off of Henry’s belt buckle, catching Dani’s eye. His abhorrent belt buckle—it was a monstrosity, silver plaited with the Wingrave crest and his initials engraved in swirling font. He rarely went without the belt and Dani had never given it much thought before, aside from a passing hope that Edmund never developed a taste for a similar style. But today, standing in the dusty room, that buckle glinted in the afternoon sun like a flare. The crest, the stamp of the great family Wingrave, blinking and shining at her. In a matter of days she’d be branded with it too.

Henry was still talking. “I know the faces around here are familiar, Danielle, but people like Jamie Taylor are not our equal. Fraternizing with the help just isn’t appropriate, now that you’re grown. I’m sure you understand my position, and I trust in the future we’ll need not return to the matter?”

Dani’s teeth worked against each other, holding back a barrage of words. A lifetime of things unsaid. “I—” _Don’t want this._ Their home. Their money. Their name. And she was losing the will to go on pretending. She looked Henry in the eye. “I’m taking her the lotion. Her arms are practically raw.” She pushed past and suddenly he had her by the wrist, his cold hand clamped down. She whipped her eyes to his and her heart skipped a beat at the dark fury there.

“You’ll change, and you’ll join the others in the kitchen.” His voice was a whisper. A low, vibrating threat. “I’ll bring the ointment to Miss Taylor.”

Dani stood there, rooted to the spot, for a long while after Henry left. She heard him in the bathroom, retrieving the medicine. Heard the door open when he headed out into the back yard. She just stood. Because maybe if she stayed stone still she could slow down the molecules, the particles, the energy—whatever it was that kept the world hurtling forward. If only she could trick time itself into stalling. Stopping, even for just a day so she could _think._ It was Monday, the sun was low in the sky, it would be Tuesday before she could blink. And the wedding was on Saturday. Five days, she had. Five days before she was locked into this house, into a flat-line future that stretched before her like a desolate road. Five days until she was buried alive beneath the weight of a house that had once rescued her from catastrophe, only to suffocate her slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UK friends—is it *the* South Bank or just South Bank? Did I embarrass myself and say something like The Times Square? #educateanamerican


	6. Chapter 6

Tuesday found Dani scrambling for any opportunity to put distance between herself and the manor. Rebecca had been asking about seeing a real British village like Hogsmeade, to which Dani had replied that Hogsmeade was neither real nor British but Bly was wonderfully quaint and they could drive into town that morning.

“You seem different,” Rebecca said suddenly, once they were jostling down the rough country road.

“Different from…?”

“More serious. Less…you.” Rebecca was eyeing her, Dani could see the concern in her peripheral.

“Well. Weddings, am I right?” She could’ve cringed at the sound of her own forced laugh. “It’s been stressful, let me tell you,” Dani shot her a wild grin, “all of Edmund’s aunts and uncles and cousins—you know, I don’t even think they’re all legitimate family members. It’s a working theory, but I think word got out about the wedding and a bunch of random freeloaders showed up with the group and everyone is too prim and proud to admit they have no idea who half the people are. I mean who has twenty first cousins?”

“Dani.”

“I’m serious!” Dani laughed, glancing over when Rebecca didn’t join.

“Stop with the weird nervous talking thing. It’s me. What’s really going on?”

There was a hairline crack somewhere at the top of Dani, a near invisible fracture that Jamie had created the other night with looks and touches and a kiss that wasn’t but felt like it was. Or maybe the fracture had been there all along. But either way it was the sort of fissure that would split her in two, given the right amount of pressure. Turn the cold marble lie of her life in Bly to fragments and powder. And it wasn’t that Dani was afraid of the shattering, no, the pull to break free was becoming increasingly hard to ignore, but what came after— _that_ was what gave Dani pause. When the marble façade was rubble at her feet what could possibly be left standing, when that façade was all she’d ever known?

But Rebecca was watching her with serious eyes. Lawyer eyes, Dani realized. Best friend eyes.

Dani sighed. “I don’t know, it’s—” She searched the air for the words.

“Complicated?” Rebecca asked.

Dani felt her eyes grow big as she nodded.

“Is it really bad?” Rebecca winced.

“Would you call trying to get hit by lightning so you can just be free of it all ‘really bad’?”

“That definitely qualifies.” Rebecca reached over and tucked a strand of Dani’s hair behind her ear. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Dani was splintering, she could feel it. About to crack wide open.

“You want the truth?”

“Obviously.”

“It’s um. A lot. A lot of truth. I haven’t told a single person because if I say it then it’s real, it’s happening, it’s out there and I’ll have to face—” Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Rebecca’s face change.

“Oh my God Dani, did Edmund _cheat_ on you?”

“No, no—”

But Rebecca wasn’t listening. “That lowlife scumbag asshole shit-licking thief of joy—we should kill him.”

“Becs, he didn’t—wait, what? No!—”

“Not kill but wound,” her eyes were darting around like she couldn’t plot it out fast enough, “mortally…”

Dani pulled the car over to the side of the road, put it in park and faced her friend.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Becs,” she smiled when Rebecca visibly calmed, “honestly this isn’t even about Edmund. Not really.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

Dani tried several times to say something, anything, but nothing came out. She sighed, turned back in her seat to face the road. _The road._ Stretching onward to Bly. Stretching in the opposite way to the manor. Both manors. The town, the estate. The estate, the town. All she’d known, all she’d know. An endless loop of road with Dani caught in its circle. Unless she did something about it.

“I don’t love Edmund.”

Rebecca was a good friend, she didn’t gasp or judge, she didn’t react. “Okay.” She was nodding. “Okay. Is this an I’m sick of him and it’s all too much at the moment thing? Or is it a he’s not the guy for me and I can’t marry him thing?”

“Honestly?”

Rebecca nodded.

“Both. And neither.”

“Is there someone else?”

“A little bit of that too.”

“Dani, _who_?”

Dani lifted the sledgehammer, shut her eyes and swung. “I’m gay.” She let the words settle in the car like a burst of confetti. _Surprise._

At first Rebecca’s expression was one of mixed shock and horror as the implications of Dani being gay hit her one after the other. Dani could read each toppling domino, each realization as it crossed Rebecca’s face. _No more wedding. No one else knows. Everyone will have to be told. Judy is going to jump off the parapet._ Finally her face softened and she tilted her head, staring off for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Somehow this isn’t shocking, actually. You, being gay.” She looked at Dani, lips twitching. “You used to get so nervous around my roommate sophomore year, the one with the buzzcut—”

Dani was nodding. “Remy.”

“Right, and I wondered. But you and Edmund were like, a single cell organism, I didn’t look too hard at it.” Then she punched Dani’s arm, hard enough to make Dani shout. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me?!”

“I’m telling you now!” Dani shouted, rubbing her arm. “I haven’t told anyone, Becs. I thought I could just…I don’t know. Ignore it.”

Rebecca shot her a look. “And have miserable orgasmless sex for the rest of your life?”

Dani rolled her eyes. “It’s more than the sex, it’s—Edmund’s dad was my dad’s best friend, right? Like, _best_ friend—they grew up next door to each other, they took over Clayton Wingrave as partners just like their fathers had done before them. And then along came Edmund and I. When Edmund was born they waited four months to put his birth announcement in the post—they waited four months for _me_ to be born so they could post our announcement together. The only son of Henry Wingrave and the only daughter of Oliver Clayton. They meant it to be fun, I think, like we came into the world together and were meant to stay that way. Twice they even dressed us up, me in a white dress and Eddie in a tiny tuxedo, to take photos for the holiday card. They used to joke that we had an arranged marriage. It would get a laugh at all the Easter brunches and Christmas parties when we were little. But it wasn’t a joke. Not entirely.”

Rebecca was making a face like affluence and tradition were foul smells that she’d just caught a whiff of.

“First of all,” Rebecca said, and she was talking with her hands now, getting fired up, and it made Dani smile, “that’s gross, so we can just leave that there.” She motioned behind them, back toward the manor, as if it really was that easy to close the chapter. Maybe it was. “And second, who cares, Dani? My mom wanted me to be on Broadway. She had me in tap shoes before I could even walk. Voice lessons, acting classes. And we lived in the city so every time Les Miz was casting, every time they were looking for Annie or the von Trapp kids or Lord help me when the Lion King had open calls for young Nala—she’d haul me out of school and we’d spend the day at Ripley Grier with all the other moms and kids who’d flocked from the tri-state. Like clockwork, every six months for years and years until my mom finally had to accept that I was much older and at least a foot taller than any other kid auditioning.”

“You’ve never told me this! I had no idea you did all that—singing and dancing and stuff?

“That’s the point, Dani—I don’t. I’m tone deaf. Can’t sing a note, never could. And maybe I can hold my own dancing with friends after a drink or two but choreography? Not a chance, no matter how many classes my mom put me in. Just because someone hangs their hat on you becoming something, it doesn’t mean you should. It doesn’t even mean you _can._ Sometimes people only see what they want to see and no one can talk them down. Those poor casting directors certainly tried with my mom. They knew I was only there for her. Eventually she gave it up, she accepted that I wasn’t meant for it. I was meant to become obsessed with true crime novels and courtroom transcripts. I was meant to go to law school. She died well before any of that came to fruition but I don’t think she’s looking down at all the New York matinees, squinting at the stage and wondering where I am, I think she’s looking down, laughing at how silly her dream for me was when in fact my own dreams are a million times better because they’re _mine_. Your parents would want the same for you.”

Dani was staring at her hand, turning her engagement ring around and around her finger with her thumb. “They would. You’re right. But…they died. They died and the Wingraves saved me from growing up in the system.” She raised a shoulder. “No questions asked, it was just ‘Danielle you’re one of us now’. Like they didn’t even have to think about it. Edmund’s in love with me. Judy’s in love with the whole idea of Eddie and I being soulmates.” She looked at Rebecca. “This is going to ruin everything. They’re going to ask how I could let it go this far, how I could’ve lied to them for so long. And I’m afraid they’re going to hate me. That’s it—that’s why I never told. They’re the only family I have and they’re going to hate me.”

“But Dani, that’s _conditional_ love. And it’s not the real thing. If they can’t love you beyond what you offer them—the perfect holiday photo, the sappy Hallmark love story—if that’s what matters to them then they never really loved you in the first place.” She gave Dani’s leg a light smack. “And how dare you say they’re the only family you have.”

“You know what I mean.” Dani rested her forehead on the steering wheel, letting her hair fall around her face. “I don’t even know how to—to even _think_ about breaking this to Edmund. To any of them.”

“Well thank God your best friend came all the way from America to help you figure it out.”

Dani shifted against the wheel to send Rebecca a smile. “I love you. You’re the best.”

“Obviously.”

They pulled back onto the road, continuing on to Bly. They’d get lunch, they decided, and talk it over. Come up with a plan. As the crested the little hill leading into the small village Rebecca seemed to remember something and twisted in Dani’s direction so fast it was a miracle she didn’t snap herself in half.

“You said there was someone else! WHO?”

Dani shook her head. “It’s not—listen, let’s get lunch and I’ll tell you everything.”

They ended up at a table outside of _The Good Thyme_ because Owen had spotted them walking past and chased them half a block until they realized it wasn’t a crazy drifter, just Owen covered in flour and squid ink because of a pasta experiment gone awry.

He brought them tea and truffled grilled cheese.

“On the house, of course,” he said, “all I ask is that you give me your honest critique—I’m considering adding it to the menu.”

“Oh my God,” Rebecca had moaned when she’d bit in, and Owen, still cleaning squid ink from his glasses, had positively preened.

“So, how are wedding preparations over at chez Wingrave?”

Dani glanced at Rebecca. They’d arrived at an unspoken understanding after Owen had pursued them—they’d finish their talk later.

“Coming along,” Dani said quickly, taking a giant bite of sandwich so she wouldn’t have to elaborate.

“Well you’re in the final stretch now, aren’t you Clayton? Lots to do, I reckon. Hannah says it’s quite the full house this week,” Owen said, “poor woman is being run ragged.”

“Lots of cousins,” Rebecca said, to which Owen nodded.

“She told me you’ve got poor Jamie out back with a machete from dawn past dark, fighting a brave fight against the weed invasion.”

“Not _me_ ,” Dani choked out, in the midst of swallowing too fast at the mention of Jamie’s name. She coughed loudly, felt her face turn red and sipped from the water glass Rebecca was offering. When she’d recovered she shook her head. “It was supposed to be in the side garden, they changed it last minute, but don’t look at me.”

It was possible she said it with more aggression than necessary, because both Owen and Rebecca were looking at her strangely. Rebecca seemed to be falling into the role of PR for Best Friend In Crisis, and she quickly plowed forward with a change of topic. Except not enough of a change, it turned out.

“So what’s the deal with Jamie?” Rebecca asked. “I know she’s the gardener but you said she went to your hen night? And then Viola is always seeking her out—”

“Again? She was looking for her again?”

“No, just—I mean when we were walking and then in the car shed yesterday—everyone seems so friendly with her, I was just curious.”

“Jamie grew up on the grounds with Edmund and Dani, her grandfather was the manor’s gardener for many years,” Owen said.

“Oh that sounds fun,” Rebecca said, “you two must’ve played together, huh?”

Dani choked again. “No—” She hacked into a napkin Owen handed her. “I barely—I mean we _saw_ each other,” she gestured wildly, “around. But,” she took several large gulps of water, “we don’t play. Didn’t play. We didn’t. Do. That.”

They were looking at her like she was the one with squid ink splattered and smeared across her entire face. And then Rebecca’s eyes got very, very wide. And her eyebrows crept up toward her hairline. Then she was smirking, practically giggling, trying to hide it by taking long sips of water.

 _Shit._ Dani was nudging her leg under the table, then practically stomping on her foot when the nudging did nothing to reign her in. Owen was looking back and forth between them, looking every bit the outsider to an inside joke.

Rebecca finally pulled herself together, laced her fingers together on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me more about Jamie, Owen.”

Dani sent daggers with her eyes but Rebecca was ignoring her.

“Um, alright,” Owen blinked a few times, still sending the occasional concerned glance in Dani’s direction. “She’s uh, a lovely young woman, talented with the plants…did the plants for the restaurant come to think of it, um,” he looked at Rebecca, still leaned forward wearing a look of utter fascination. He smiled uncomfortably. “I’m not quite sure what you’re after here, to be honest.”

“Just a general illustration. If she lived at the manor her whole life and you worked there for several years you must’ve gotten to know her—”

“Actually I didn’t meet her until I moved back from Paris, she was—” he stumbled through a few words, finally settling on “away.” He tipped the pitcher, refilling Dani’s water glass. “Her grandfather died when she was a teenager so there was a stretch of time when she lived elsewhere.”

 _Elsewhere._ Something about that word set Dani’s teeth on edge. It was the same feeling she’d gotten the night Jamie skirted around the story of Frank’s death.

“Do you know where?” Dani asked.

Owen pursed his lips, looked down and nodded. “I do. Unfortunately she was sixteen when Frank passed, so she was still a minor. At the time her father was still alive, probably still is, but he’s a miner up north. A miner for Clayton Wingrave actually, as it happens. Apparently he was notified but he, um…declined the opportunity to assume guardianship. Hannah tried to intervene, tried to rally up some documents at the eleventh hour, take Jamie in herself. But social services came before Hannah could manage it. To hear Hannah tell it your heart would break in two. Sixteen-year-old Jamie, usually all brass and bravado, crying as the social worker pulled her to the car, begging the Wingraves to let her stay on as gardener, she already knew the ropes, she’d been doing all Frank’s work for years anyway. And poor Hannah, to this day that wonderful woman suffers the guilt of it. She tried to track Jamie down over the years but it was as if she’d fallen through a crack, just slipped away into the system. Then, as Hannah tells it, one day she just shows back up at Bly, grown and looking for a job. At first the Wingraves wouldn’t even consider it,” he grimaced in Dani’s direction, “not to speak ill of them, I understand their position, she had a record by that time. A lengthy one, turns out. But Hannah,” his face softened as he shook his head, “she threatened to quit on the spot. Walk right out if they didn’t hire Jamie. Give her the old hut back, the whole deal. And if there’s anything the Wingraves don’t fancy losing, it’s Hannah.”

“I don’t blame them,” Rebecca said, “I’ve seen her in action, it’s obvious the house would fall to pieces without her.”

Dani looked at Owen. “Why didn’t they let her stay?” She felt sick.

“Who?”

“The Wingraves. Why didn’t they let Jamie stay?”

“Don’t rightly know if they could, reckon there would’ve been papers involved, transferring guardianship and all.”

Rebecca was nodding. “Family law isn’t my area but I do know there’s a lot that goes into it, petitioning the courts—"

“They did it for me,” Dani said. “A hundred empty rooms, that’s what Judy said when they took me in. We have a hundred empty rooms in this old house, why wouldn’t we keep you?”

Owen looked extremely uncomfortable. “This feels like maybe something you should talk to them about…” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sure it wasn’t ill will. They had their reasons; you can be sure about that.” He said the last part as if he thought it might make Dani feel better. Reassure her. The problem though, was that he was exactly right. Dani was sure they _did_ have their reasons, she just didn’t trust they were good reasons. Honorable reasons.

“Right,” Dani said, “yeah, I’ll ask them.”

“It all turned out in the end though, yeah?” Owen flashed a smile beneath his mustache. “We all ended up where we were meant to. Back together in Bly.”

“I believe that,” Rebecca pointed at Owen. “That in the end things work out if they’re meant to, even when the odds are against it.”

Owen smiled agreeably.

But Rebecca wasn’t done. “And sometimes, the people you _think_ are meant to be together aren’t meant to be at all. Sometimes they’re meant to be with someone else, someone who was hiding in plain sight all along—"

“Okay,” Dani stood up quickly, “we should go, we have a whole day of things—lots of things, and stuff, just lots, but it was so good seeing you, thank you for lunch and definitely add that to the menu,” she pointed at her empty plate, “that was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

And just like that Rebecca’s lips were twitching again so Dani pulled her away from the table and up the road.

On the ride back to the manor Dani tried and failed to shut down all of Rebecca’s questions about Jamie.

“Becs! Focus! I’m still engaged!” She nearly shouted it. “There’s a whole mountain—a whole mountain _range_ —to climb over before I can even think about—”

“I know, I know and we’ll figure that out right away, immediately, but just tell me when you knew? Like did you have a crush when you were kids? Did you just see her one day and _know_?” She looked wistful and dreamy and it almost made Dani forget the cold dread she was barely keeping at bay over what she had to do. Almost.

“I don’t know, Becs, it just kind of—”

“If you say _it just kind of happened_ I will scream. No easy answers, Dan, I want to know. Details.”

“Fine. Okay. There may have been an…interest. Even when we were kids. I just. I didn’t know what it meant. Clearly.” Dani glanced over. Rebecca was giving her doe eyes and pouting her bottom lip. Dani shook her head. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not romantic—”

“It _is_ though!”

“I’m engaged!” Dani did shout it that time. “She’s back at the house clearing weeds so that I can marry Edmund!” She groaned.

“Oh. Right.” Rebecca bared her teeth in a grimace. “I forgot about that. Oh my God she must be in agony, fixing the yard up for you to marry someone else—”

“I’m sure she’s in agony but mostly because she’s gravely allergic to whatever’s growing back there. We’re like three minutes away from the manor, you can start giving me advice about how to talk to Edmund any time now…”

“Yes, yes, yes I am definitely about to do that after I ask one last question—”

“Becs!”

“Just one—how was it? Your first time with her? Was it mind blowing? After all those years with the wrong…I mean not just the wrong person, the wrong gender! I feel like that’d be so intense to finally…” She smooshed her hands together, looking at Dani expectantly.

“It’s not like that, Becs, it’s—we haven’t. We kissed once when we were fifteen.”

Rebecca made a face. “That’s it?”

Dani shrugged. “We’ve been hanging out. This week. And yeah, something’s there, there’s definitely a…a thing. It’s a thing. But she won’t—she said she wants me free. Before we…” She glanced at Rebecca. “Which actually says a lot about her, now that I’m thinking about it—I was kind of ready to just jump her—"

“She’s _noble_ too?” Rebecca had clearly stopped listening toward the end there and was slapping the car’s ceiling with one hand and fanning herself with the other. “Head over heels for you, hot as hell and _noble_ too? My God, Dani, when you two finally get down to it…” She made a whooshing sound and pantomimed an explosion. “Like launching a rocket at an oil rig. They’ll see that blaze in space.” She pointed at Dani. “You better call me after, I’ll need details.”

They pulled into the estate. Dani sighed. “I’ll talk to Edmund as soon as I can. I shouldn’t drag this thing out any longer than I already have.”

“Good,” Rebecca said, “because I love you but this is like, a lot of secret for one person to hold.” She reached over and took Dani’s hand. Squeezed it. “This is a good thing, Dan. It’s going to be hard for a second and then amazing for a lifetime.”

Dani squeezed her hand back. “Thank you.” She tilted her head. “Did you—did I hear you say she was hot?”

“Please,” Rebecca said, opening the car door. “I’m straight, not blind.”

***

Dani would talk to Edmund the following evening, she decided. He was golfing with Peter and the state mates, having a late dinner at the club. It made the most sense to do it Wednesday evening after dinner when the older relatives retired upstairs and there was hope of having the conversation privately. It also gave Dani twenty-four hours to prepare, which, if she was being honest, was definitely a factor in deciding to wait. Twenty-four hours to prepare. And to try not to panic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to drugs in this chapter, just FYI. Also, rated E cause sex.

Wednesday dawned, bright and beautiful. By mid-morning the house was bustling. Judy had hired someone to set up a mid-week mini brunch and the long kitchen table was brimming with bagels and sausages and eggs and donuts. Dani grabbed a jelly-filled powdery one, the first thing she’d tried eating since she’d gotten back to the manor the day before and subsequently lost her appetite indefinitely when she realized she was in it now. There was no going back to a time when no one else knew. Well. Jamie had known. Jamie had always known. But now so did Rebecca and it was only a matter of time before, in a fit of jubilation, she let something slip.

“Uh oh, donuts?” Aunt Moira clicked her tongue, passing Dani on her way into the kitchen. “Don’t forget you have a wedding dress to fit into.”

Dani saluted her with the donut and kept walking. It was getting increasingly hard to respond to the daily barrage of questions and comments from the houseguests. Things like _almost time Danielle, are you getting nervous?_ and _carry a pair of wool socks on you, don’t want anyone getting cold feet_ just didn’t land the same way anymore.

The day oozed by. Absolutely crawled. Dani was convinced that at one point the clock had stayed stuck at 1:05 for twenty minutes. At two she finally allowed herself to be talked into a game of tennis with Edmund, Peter and Rebecca. She still had a couple old tennis skirts from summer lessons in high school and they fit well enough. She gave Rebecca one and threw the other on herself.

“I look good in this,” Rebecca said, checking herself in Dani’s mirror, pulling the skirt higher to make it as short as possible.

“You look good in everything.” Dani flipped her hair forward to throw it into a ponytail.

“She’s out there, you know,” Rebecca crossed her arms and leaned against one of the bed’s tall posts. “In back by the courts.”

"Yeah, she’s been out there all week because of the fucking weeds,” Dani said with more venom than she’d meant to. She’d been trying to avoid all thoughts of Jamie until after she talked to Edmund. It was an impossibility of course, but something she was endeavoring nonetheless.

“She’s going to see you in this.” Rebecca arched an eyebrow and looked Dani up and down.

“Okay?”

Rebecca rolled her hand in the air impatiently. “So maybe we wear something that’s not a shapeless Harvard Business School tee? Maybe we wear something…tighter?”

Dani smirked at her. “That’s so obvious though—” She thought about it. “Should I?”

“Obviously.”

After trying on several options which Rebecca quickly vetoed Dani found a black razorback yoga tank.

Rebecca was nodding in approval before it was even all the way on. “This is the one.”

Dani tugged on it. “This is meant for Bikram when it’s like a thousand degrees, it’s practically a bathing suit, I’m taking it off—”

“Don’t you dare. What’s the point of suffering through godawful Bikram classes if not to flaunt the fruits of your labor.” Her jaw dropped as she watched Dani turn around to check herself in the mirror. “Case and point your ridiculous back—Jesus Christ Dani, you should just go topless. You’re selling me on Bikram.”

“Joke’s on you, I haven’t done yoga in ages. Turns out lugging around a ton of emotional baggage is workout aplenty.” She made a face at herself in the mirror. “It’s not even warm outside, this is so desperate and she’s going to see right through it—”

“Doesn’t mean she won’t appreciate it.”

Tennis, it turned out, was rather a loose description for what the boys had planned. Mostly it was an afternoon of Edmund and Peter serving the ball over and over, rocketing it across the court in an attempt to hit the other in the penis.

“They’re grown men,” Rebecca said, watching them with disgusted fascination, “and this is _fun_ to them.”

Dani shook her head and served. She and Rebecca had moved over to the empty adjacent court. And if Dani jogged over in an effort to take the far side of the court before Rebecca could claim it—the side of the court that offered a wide open view of the backyard—well, it was just practical.

As it stood, the yard was dismally empty. Both of weeds and gardeners. How she’d managed it Dani wasn’t sure but in just a day and a half Jamie had cleared over an acre of impossibly tangled weeds. The job was done, ahead of time no less. Which, Dani realized with a small stab of disappointment, probably meant that she wouldn’t see her after all.

Rebecca volleyed the ball back to her and Dani lunged to hit it back. It went that way for a while, the _thwack_ of the ball hitting their rackets, the bounce of it on the asphalt.

At one point Edmund got a phone call, Dani could hear him answer from across the court. _Henry._ Edmund always assumed a telling self-important haughtiness when talking to his father. He walked a short distance away from the court, signaling for Peter to give him a minute.

Dani served the ball again, she was rusty and it veered left. Rebecca chased after it, throwing it back to Dani before being caught around the waist by Peter. He lifted her up and she squealed. Dani hated it, seeing Rebecca with him, but she had to admit this time was a record—three days and not a single fight between them.

Rebecca was smacking Peter’s back as he carried her around fireman-style, laughing and kicking her legs. Dani balanced the ball on her racket, waiting for her friend. Bounced it in place a few times. Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. _Spoke too soon,_ Dani sighed. Rebecca had something in her hand, something she’d found in Peter’s pocket when they were roughhousing, it seemed. She was holding it out in her palm, looking pissed. Dani couldn’t see what it was. She also didn’t really care. Five years she’d done this with them in college. They fought and they fucked and they fought some more. She’d squinted at it from every angle but still couldn’t see what Rebecca saw in him. Peter Quint was poison.

Rebecca was getting louder, Peter was doing the annoying thing he did whenever they fought, steepling his hands and pressing them to his lips like he was praying for the patience to deal with it all, which was bullshit because it was usually his fault they were fighting in the first place. Dani spun away to give them some semblance of privacy for whatever it was they were hashing out and came face to face with Jamie, standing directly on the other side of the chain link.

“Jesus!” Dani’s hand, clutching the tennis ball, flew to her chest.

Jamie flashed her a grin. “Boo.” She was holding a rake, perfecting the grass at the exterior edge of the court.

Dani’s heart was still racing. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Jamie, clearly amused, didn’t look up from where she was raking. “Everythin’ alright there?” She nodded to where Rebecca and Peter were inches apart, spitting venom back and forth.

“Why? They’re completely in love, can’t you tell?”

Jamie smirked. “To each his own, I suppose. And you, Poppins? Holdin’ up alright?” She put a hand to her eyes to shield the sun then finally looked directly at Dani. It was quick, subtle, almost undetectable—Jamie was good at never showing her hand—but Dani caught it. The minute she noticed the skirt. The legs. The shirt that was more like an elongated bra.

“Yeah, things are good. I’m good.” _I’m telling Edmund tonight. And then I’m coming for you._

“You look good. Like things are good, ‘s what I meant.” Jamie said it casually, looking away.

Dani smiled at the ground. “How are your arms?”

Jamie shrugged, pulling up a sleeve to reveal a mess of calamine-covered scabs. “Turns out I’m rather allergic to the shite I was clearin’.”

“You don’t say.”

An aggravated growl had them both looking over at Peter and Rebecca. He was looming over her, telling her to lower her voice. Her hands were flying as she berated him.

“You can gauge how angry she is when she talks with her hands like that,” Dani said. “The anger is proportionate to the ferocity of her gestures.”

“Properly pissed off then, isn’t she?”

“He’s horrible. The guy, Peter. He’s horrible.” As Dani said it Peter lunged toward Rebecca, grabbing her shoulders.

“Oi!” Jamie shouted across the court. “Take a step back mate, yeah? No need for that.”

There was a beat of absolute deafening silence.

“Excuse me?” Peter stepped past Rebecca, a wild smile on his face. “Did you just bark an order at me? Like I’m a fucking dog?”

“Not at all,” Jamie said, unflustered. “I barked an order at you like you’re a fuckin’ knob who puts his hands on a woman when his intellect’s been bested.”

 _Shit._ Dani’s stomach was knotting. The way Peter was looking at Jamie was…not good.

“My intellect?” He echoed, the lilt in his voice slanting his words all the more in his rage. “A fucking _gardener_ is telling me about my intellect?”

“Peter—” Rebecca could sense it too. The shift in his fury, all of it now focused on Jamie.

“Do you know who I am? Who my family is?” He spit the words.

Jamie, incredibly, had actually gone back to raking the grass while he stalked toward her. She glanced up, eyebrow raised. “I don’t rightly care, mate.”

And then Peter was pressed against the chain link fence, the only thing between them. “I am _not_ your mate—” He grabbed the fence with both hands and Dani had had enough.

“Back off.”

Peter did a doubletake like he couldn’t quite believe she’d spoken to him. “Are you serious, Danielle? You think it’s okay for the help to speak to me this way?”

“She’s my friend and I’m telling you to back off. And apologize.”

“Apologize?” He let out a sharp laugh. “To _her_?”

“And Rebecca. For whatever the fuck you’ve done this time.”

He pushed off the fence and took a giant lunge toward Dani, but she didn’t have the time to register it, to be afraid or to even react, because suddenly the handle of Jamie’s rake was sticking all the way through the chain link, halting him in his tracks.

The look Jamie was giving him could’ve called winter back to Bly. “A real bad idea, that.” She stared him down, unyielding.

Finally Peter put his hands up, took a step back. Scrubbed his face and growled into his hands.

“Fucking _women_.” He started in the direction of the court’s chain link door, stopping to point a finger in Rebecca’s face. “We’ll finish talking later.”

When he was gone Jamie went back to raking and Rebecca closed the distance, joining them at the fence.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking on the verge of tears.

“You alright?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, he didn’t—” Rebecca closed her eyes and shook her head. “He’s not always like this—”

“He is though, Becs,” Dani said softly.

“No but like _this_ , with the hands and the grabbing. He’s only like this when he’s—” She was gesturing but Dani didn’t understand.

“High?” Jamie offered.

Rebecca nodded.

“Wait, really?” Dani was looking between them.

“Twitching, sniffling, pupils the size of that tennis ball,” Jamie said. “Not proud of it but I know the signs.”

“I found a bag on him. In his pocket. Apparently he picked it up in London when we were there for the stag.”

Peter’s partying had been the biggest cause of their fights in college. Rebecca hated drugs. Peter didn’t.

“Are you okay?” Dani ducked to catch Rebecca’s eye. “We could go somewhere, get away for a few hours if you want.”

“No, I don’t want to cause a big thing, there’s already so much—” Suddenly she turned to Jamie and her face brightened. “I’m Rebecca, by the way, and I’m so sorry—this isn’t how I wanted to meet you,” she said with a soft smile. “It’s good though, to officially meet you.”

Jamie looked a bit confused, but she recovered and smiled back. “Pleasure’s mine. Hope you’re able to salvage the evenin’, both of you. Not let that sully things.” She nodded in the direction Peter had stormed off in. “And if he comes back just whistle, ‘ve got my rake at the ready.”

Rebecca laughed, a real true laugh, and turned to Dani. “I _like_ her.”

Dani sent her a look. Subtlety had never been Rebecca’s strong point. Jamie’s eyes narrowed slightly, a cautious smile on her lips as she looked between them. Edmund chose that moment to reappear on the court, bouncing a ball on his racket.

“Who’s ready for a game of doubles?” He called. Then he looked around. “Where’s Peter?”

***

While the beginnings of the day had dragged like deadweight the afternoon seemed intent on making up for it, hours slipping by like grease. Peter had disappeared to sulk; Rebecca had decided to take a bath and turn in early. After dinner it was just Edmund and Dani.

He’d gone to kiss her goodnight and, heart racing, she’d closed her eyes and taken the plunge.

“Eddie?”

“Mmm?”

“Can we go somewhere to talk?”

They worked together to light a fire in the billiard room, a room where they’d spent every rainy day together playing chess and pool and video games when Henry bought Edmund the latest console for his thirteenth birthday. It was a good room. They’d been happy in it. And as the glow of the fire expanded, reaching even the far corners of the room, Dani hoped the coziness, the familiarity of being together in their favorite room, would give Edmund a soft place to land.

“So,” he said, giving the fire one last poke and settling into an armchair pulled up to the hearth, “I’m all ears. What’s up?” He smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose.

She sat in the other arm chair, moved it closer to his, and looked at him. She’d hated him at times. Touching her, kissing her, assuming she was right there with him. But. She’d let him believe she was. The façade was as much a cruel lie as it was a necessary protection. And now Eddie, her lifelong best friend who’d pulled out his own tooth at six just to reassure Dani it wouldn’t hurt, who’d always given her the window seat on flights back and forth from Radley each summer, who still lisped when he got nervous and still hadn’t quite learned to whistle, was going to suffer the fallout. He wasn’t perfect. He was fairly flawed, actually. But he didn’t deserve this.

“Dani?” He was looking at her nervously now.

“Eddie.” Her voice was a pale whisper but she looked him in the eye because he at least deserved that. “I can’t.”

A slight quirk in his brow. “Can’t what?”

“Marry you.”

It was like watching a dark shadow pass over his face. “Why are you—what are you saying?”

“It wouldn’t be honest. It wouldn’t be fair. I didn’t know, not for sure, until…I mean it was just happening, I was going along with it, I had no reason not to go along with it because it’s what I’d always expected, but—you deserve more than that. More than someone who’s just...expected. You should get to have fire and passion and I—”

“Do you…do you not love me?”

“I do, of course I do, you’re my best friend but it’s not—”

“We could postpone it—would that? Would that be better? If we postponed it to give you time—”

“I don’t want to postpone it, Eddie…I want to call it off.”

“What if it’s just nerves? I mean the wedding is in _days_ Dani, everyone’s here, and this could just be nerves—”

“It’s not nerves, Eddie.”

“Then what?”

“It’s—it’s complicated. And in time I’ll tell you everything. But I think the main thing is that we never got the chance to become our whole selves, if that makes sense? We were always a pair, so there’s this part of me, this Edmund shaped part of me taking up space but I think I’m meant to use that space for me. To fill it with my own stuff. What I want. Things I don’t even know about yet because we never had the chance to discover ourselves apart from each other. And I _do_ love you—so much—I want all of that discovering for you too. I want you to drive the Aston to Italy with a friend or better yet by yourself, make friends along the way and text me photos of all of it. I want you to send me a postcard from some beach in Thailand where you just met some gorgeous model who doesn’t speak a word of—Eddie?”

He’d covered his face with his hands. Sunk down until he was practically holding his face in his lap, his shoulders shaking. Dani had seen him cry plenty of times, but this was. This was different.

“Eddie?”

His entire body was heaving and it occurred to Dani that he could actually be on the brink of some sort of breakdown. Maybe even a heart attack.

“Eddie, look at me, breathe—”

But then he did look at her. Lifted his head and looked right at her and Dani’s entire world flipped on its head because Edmund was _laughing._ Hysterically. Tears were pooling in his eyes and his cheeks were bright red but he was positively roaring with laughter. And whatever combination of confusion and horror that Dani was wearing on her face only seemed to make him laugh harder.

“Eddie—”

“I know—I know—” He held up a hand, still unable to get his laughter under control. “I know this is not the appropriate response but _Dani_ —” He broke down into another fit of laughter. “Dani!” He leaned forward, cupping her cheeks in his hands and beaming at her like she was made of love and light and splendor. “Danielle. I don’t want to get married either.”

It was like the floor dropped out beneath her. “…what?”

“I don’t want to marry you,” he was still smiling, shaking his head, “I thought _you_ wanted this, and I know my parents do, and I thought we were locked in—I just figured we’d make it work, it’d pretty much been decided for us. But the past few months I’ve been…” he looked past Dani, seemingly trying to find the words, “terrified? Frantic? It’s like a huge red warning light has been blaring and neither of us were paying it any attention. I’m not ready to be strapped down here in Bly, not with marriage, not with the company. All the things you mentioned? Discovering, traveling, fuck it, even the Thai model— _I_ want all that too!”

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I haven’t made a single decision for myself in…maybe I’ve never made a decision for myself, I can’t even remember a time—all the important stuff was decided for me. For us. And you,” he gestured at her, shaking his head, “you’ve been…weird, to be honest, but I just thought you were growing up, becoming more serious because that’s what we thought we had to do—become the fucking lord and lady of this place and be stuffy and lifeless like my parents. I just…I had no idea you felt the same way. God, Dani, I wish I’d known.”

Dani felt lightheaded. The room was spinning and she grabbed the arms of the chair to ground herself. How long? How long had they been pretending for each other?

She looked at him, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her face. “So what do we tell everyone?”

Edmund would speak to his parents. Dani had offered to be there, but Edmund had insisted it would be best if he did it alone. Avoid the possibility that Judy would fling herself at Dani’s feet begging her to change her mind, to change Edmund’s mind as well.

Edmund had walked Dani to the foyer and they’d parted ways with a hug. And of all the hugs they’d ever shared—and there’d been hundreds, maybe even thousands—this one was the warmest. The biggest. The truest.

And then it was just Dani, alone in the foyer. The grandfather clock chimed in the hall. Ten o’clock.

She went upstairs and threw on a pair of black jeans. The ones that Rebecca said made her ass look criminal. She found her favorite white vee-neck that clung to all the right places and tossed on a denim jacket as an afterthought—it was chilly at night. She took her hair down, ran a hand through it, grabbed some ankle boots and checked the mirror. Smiled at herself. She was free. She was actually _free._ For the first time in eighteen years. Before she knew it she was beaming. Even her smile was familiar again.

On her way to the greenhouse she made a plan. She was sick of waiting for life to happen to her—she was finally going to go after it herself. She was going to go for it. As soon as Jamie opened the door she’d grab her. Launch her lips at her. She was ready and she was tired of waiting.

She walked through the greenhouse and knocked on the door of the hut, the clothes she’d borrowed from Jamie days earlier tucked under her arm. The door opened a moment later.

“Dani?” It was Viola standing there. Inside Jamie’s house. At ten o’clock at night.

Dani was lightheaded all over again. She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think straight. Viola had been interested in Jamie for days, she’d seen it with her own eyes. Stupid to assume it was innocent. Naïve to think Jamie was…what? Waiting for Dani? Engaged-to-a-man Dani?

“Dani?” Viola sounded worried and it was probably because Dani was swaying on her feet a bit, looking sick no doubt. “Is everything—”

And then Dani heard footsteps behind Viola and she couldn’t, she couldn’t see them together and have it confirmed, have it become a reality.

“Just um. Here.” She shoved Jamie’s clothes into Viola’s hands and spun around to leave. She had to get out.

“Dani?” This time it was Jamie’s voice calling her, but she didn’t turn back. She crossed the yard at a sprint, embarrassed and gutted. She didn’t realize she was headed for the treehouse until it was right in front of her, sturdy and empty and cloaked in flowers.

She wanted to cry. She _needed_ to cry. Tonight, the whole day really, had been too much. But climbing up into the treehouse, sitting down on the wooden floor warped by rain and time, she couldn’t shed a single tear. So she just breathed. Closed her eyes. And waited.

Time passed. Minutes, maybe longer. Her breath evened. It was all fine. Jamie didn’t owe her anything. And better yet, she didn’t owe Jamie anything. She was still free. Tonight was still good, still worth celebrating, she was determined to believe.

But then, as if the night was playing some sort of cosmic joke, as if she was being tested to see just how much she could take before she broke, a small voice whispered her name.

 _Fuck._ She opened her eyes. He was still wearing the sweater and shorts. The girl was wearing the same cotton dress. Apparently ghosts’ wardrobes were limited.

“Not now. Please.” She closed her eyes. “Not now.”

“I’m awfully sorry,” the little girl said, “it’s just, we don’t control when we arrive, it’s all rather unexpected.”

“I’m sorry if it’s inconvenient,” the boy said, “but we don’t have much time left.”

Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed and ignored them. A quiet beat ticked by.

Then, “We really don’t mean to be a bother, but we must speak with you.”

“It’s important, Dani. You must remember.”

Dani sighed. Opened her eyes. “I don’t understand. Nothing you tell me makes any sense. Remember _what_? Are you—do you need help? Are you trapped here? Is this a crossing over to the light thing?” She leaned back and covered her eyes with her hands. “This is insane.” She shook her head. “You’re not real. You always show up when I’ve had the worst day, at the worst time. It’s stress. And I will see somebody about this. I’ll make an appointment and I will see—"

“There’s a key.”

Dani looked at the boy. “What?”

“In his office. There’s a key. And an outline on the floor. There was a chest there once, it sat there for many, many years.”

“So very many years, but now it’s gone,” the little girl said.

Dani searched their faces. They looked so real. So real. “You want me to find the key to a missing chest? I don’t—what are your names? Can you at least tell me your names?”

“But you already know our names, silly.”

“I don’t, I don’t know what any of this—“

“Dani.” The boy reached out a finger to her forehead. “You need. To. Remember.”

And then, just like every other time before, they were suddenly gone. And then someone else called Dani’s name from down below, near the edge of the tree line. _Jamie._ She was marching her way across the tangled foliage without so much as a flashlight, Dani could hear her cursing every time she tripped or took a rogue branch to the face. 

“Dani!” She was getting closer, clearly headed for the treehouse. Sure enough, a minute later her head popped up through the entrance in the floor. She was out of breath, like she’d just run all over the estate looking for her. “Oh good, you’re here.” She hauled herself up to sit on the edge of the entry, feet dangling down. “Couple things.” She held up a finger and took several deep pants like she was still trying to catch her breath. “First. It’s not like that with Viola. We’re friends. She hates the Wingraves, more than I do if you can believe, so when she’s here we visit. Shoot the breeze, like. She’s got a thing for a girl in London. Girl in London’s got a thing for gardens. Flowers. Viola was lookin’ for tips. ‘S all it was.”

Dani blinked at the floor of the treehouse. “You don’t…have to explain, I mean…it’s not like we’re—you can do whatever you want—”

Jamie made a face. “Come off it, Poppins. You know I’m mad for you.”

Dani’s eyes flicked up.

“That was the second thing, actually. That I needed to tell you. Not like I’ve been shy about it, but there you have it.” When Dani didn’t answer Jamie peered at her. “Are you alright?”

“I—I’m feeling—“ _Chaotic. Like everything is changing and also there are ghosts._ She looked at Jamie. “Viola has a thing for a girl in London?”

Jamie nodded.

“And not for you?”

“Believe me I was shocked as well but to be fair the girl in London’s got tattoos, so. Can’t compete with that I suppose.” Jamie poked Dani’s leg with a small twig. “’S a joke, Poppins.”

“Sorry. Today was a lot. Like...a lot. With Peter and Rebecca and then breaking it off with Edmund and seeing Viola and thinking—and then the ghosts. The children.” She looked at Jamie. “I keep seeing them. They say things—they want me to remember something—and there’s a key? And a chest that’s gone now and I don’t—they’re so real, the two of them. But I’m scared it’s me. What if there’s something...like what if this is the first symptom?”

“Don’t think you’re a loon, if that’s what you’re askin’. If you were I don’t think you’d be bothered. It bothers you because you’re rational, and seein’ wee ghosties isn’t.”

“But what else could it be? I mean…do you believe in ghosts?”

“Sure.”

Dani lifted her head to look at her. “Really? Because part of me…my dad’s siblings, there were never any photos of them growing up because my dad couldn’t…he couldn’t see them, it was too hard. So I don’t know what they looked like and I’ve never tried to find out because it’s just all so…dark. And so unfair. And thinking about it makes me…like there’s this rage because I should’ve had at least one of them. At least one of them, my dad or his brother or sister…at least one of them should’ve been able to live. But I don’t know what they looked like—Miles and Flora were their names…I mean, you know that…everyone knows the story…”

“Might be the worst fuckin’ thing, a child disappearin’ like that. Two of them. Christ. I can’t imagine.” She blew out a breath. “Frank used to see them playin’ from time to time. Before. Said they were sweet kids. He was interviewed by detectives when they went missin', everyone at the manor was. Gave me hell growin’ up if I wandered off too long, probably scared whoever took ‘em might come back.”

“I think it might be them.” Dani whispered it, because somehow saying it softly felt like less of a declaration. Less insane. “If I’m not hallucinating. If they’re really there. I think it might be Miles and Flora.”

“Have you asked them?”

“They keep saying I already know their names. I’ve never asked directly because…because I think I already know. And it’s just…too big. It’s too much. I don’t know if I can help them and I don’t—” Dani had just come to a realization, an awareness of a truth she hadn’t confronted yet, “I don’t want to know what happened to them. Because it was _evil_. I just know it. Whatever happened to them, it was evil.”

A silent moment slipped by, quiet aside from the rustle of the breeze through the trees. In the distance an owl called into the night and another answered back. 

“I mentioned about servin’ time at your hen night, yeah?”

Dani looked up at the sudden change in topic. She nodded into the dark.

“Somethin’ happened there, I’ve never talked about it. But it suits, so I’m gonna tell you now.”

Dani shifted, sat up straighter.

“Got involved with drug traffickin’ on the inside when I was first there, it’s a quick way to climb the ranks. Also a quick way to turn a six month sentence into five years, as it happens. But one day someone tips the guards off. They go down the cellblock, searchin’ everyone. I’ve got a bag of pills under my mattress. I’m thoroughly fucked. So I panic. I swallow them. All of them—ten, thirteen pills maybe. Next thing I know I’m in a garden. Plants and sun and flowers as far as I can see. And Frank’s there. He wants me to walk with him. Talk. Felt like we spent hours there, talkin’, rememberin’. He told me things. About my life. But not just the old stuff—he talked about things that hadn’t happened yet. Told me to keep my head down, do my time proper, go back to Bly, to the manor, pick up where he left off. Told me it would make sense one day. Then it was like a suction—a great fuckin’ force started pullin’ me back, but I didn’t want to go. I grab the nearest thing—a rosebush, I grab at the branches, try to hang on. Tore my hand apart on the thorns. Woke up a day later in hospital. My heart had stopped twice, they’d been ready to call it.”

“Oh my God.”

“Was back in my cell by the end of the week and after that I kept my fuckin’ head down. Turned a new leaf. But the thing of it is, Dani,” Jamie narrowed her eyes at the treehouse wall, Dani could just make out her face through the dark, “the thing of it is…when I woke up in the hospital bed, I had thorns in my hand. Pulled ‘em out myself. Three fuckin’ rosebush thorns.” She looked at Dani. “I don’t know who your ghosts are or why they’re here, but I don’t think you should run from the experience. Personally I think we only see glimpses of the big picture, and when we die we go somewhere where we can see the whole thing. But sometimes people who’ve passed on get bloody frustrated with us bein’ so shortsighted down here, so they find ways to help us see.” She shrugged. “Just a theory.”

“I think—” Dani looked at her. “I think you’re amazing.”

Jamie snorted.

“No, really, and I think—I’m going to ask them. If I see them again. When I see them again. I’ll ask. I’ll find out.”

Jamie smiled. “Good.”

Somewhere back beyond the far edge of the property line a fox called into the night, yipping and chattering and disturbing the birds in the trees. The silence grew between them and Dani felt compelled to fill it with something lighter.

“So…that was quite the scene today. You, threatening Peter Quint with a rake.” She laughed to herself. “I think he was genuinely scared of you, the way he—”

Jamie’s voice was sharp and sudden. “Poppins if it’s all the same to you I’d rather talk about something else.”

“Oh—yeah, that’s—that’s fine, I was just—”

Jamie smirked. “I know you were _just_ but you’ve got me goin’ mad here because I’m pretty sure I heard you say you ended things with Edmund before we started swappin’ stories and I’m tryin’ to be patient and respectful like, but are you ever gonna get round to tellin’ me more about that?”

Dani smiled. “Can we go somewhere? Away from the manor? I—everything in my life starts and ends with this place and I want it to be different…with you.”

Jamie’s teeth flashed in the dark. “Think I know a place we could go.”

In the truck, Dani told her everything. The truth of it—both her side and Edmund’s. How she’d known the truth about herself for years…ever since a secret kiss by the lake and maybe even before then in some ways. She told her how Henry and Judy didn’t know yet but Rebecca did. And maybe Owen—lunch hadn’t exactly been a subtle affair.

Jamie was silent through most of it, driving them to the outskirts of Bly, deep into the woods. Finally she glanced over at Dani.

“So what will you do with it, then? Your newfound freedom?”

“Start a business.” Dani said it with immediate certainty and it earned her an eyebrow raise and an impressed jut of Jamie’s chin. Dani smiled. “It’s always been my goal.”

“It’s in your blood, yeah?”

“I guess but—” She turned in her seat to face Jamie. “I want to start something that adds to the world. Coal mining takes. I want to give.”

Jamie shot her a brilliant smile. “’S good, Dani. Seriously.”

“I told Henry once when he came to visit Edmund and I in Boston. He asked why I was interested in a business degree and I told him.”

“What’d he say?”

“After he stopped laughing? That I was studying the wrong thing. That no successful business gives back more than it takes, and that maybe I should leave the business stuff to Edmund and volunteer at a homeless shelter if I was feeling guilty about my privilege.”

“That man,” Jamie said, “is strangleweed.”

Dani laughed. “What?”

“The shite I’ve been clearin’ these past few days,” Jamie said, pulling up her sleeve as if Dani needed reminding. “’S got several names—dodders, devil’s hair, strangleweed. And the reason it’s such shite, the reason it’s not a normal bloody weed is that it’s smart. With other plants it’s survival of the fittest, fair game. But strangleweed’s different. It can communicate. Has barbs in its roots that it jabs the other plants with. Injects them with its poison. And then it starts whisperin’ to them. Talkin’ to them, like. Convincin’ them to surrender, be taken over. And strangleweed can be downright persuasive.” She glanced at Dani. “That’s the Wingraves. They’ve been tryin’ to take you over since the moment they got their barbs in you.”

Dani thought about it. It was…kind of spot on.

Jamie was still talking. “But here you are. Bloomin’ right in the middle of the mess you were planted in.” She took a left onto a dirt road that lazily wound its way up to a steep ridge. “They’re strangleweed Dani, and you’re a fuckin’ wildflower.”

It would’ve been the perfect moment for Dani to reach out, close the distance between them once and for all, but just then Jamie wrenched the truck into park where the dirt road opened onto a grassy plateau, lit up by the moon. The entire county stretched out below, dark except for several scattered dots of light. Streetlights, maybe. Or houses.

“Used to come here when I was younger. Thirteen, fourteen maybe. When I wanted to get away. Nicked wood and rope from the greenhouse when Frank wasn’t lookin’ and I built a swing. Not afraid of heights, are you?”

Dani shook her head, smiling. “Nope.”

The swing had been fashioned out of a large plank, large and wide enough for two, but Jamie wanted Dani to experience it herself.

“Trick is,” Jamie said, hauling Dani backward once she was seated and holding on, “to lean forward at the top. Ready?”

She ran forward, giving Dani and the swing one last big push. The swing was tied to a thick branch high up on the tree—she had no idea how Jamie had managed to get up there—and the long length of rope allowed the arc of it to clear the plateau and send Dani swinging straight out over the ridge, over all of Bly, it seemed. At the highest point Dani leaned forward, like Jamie had said, and it was the closest thing to flying she’d ever felt. After a little while, when she touched back down, she realized she was laughing, feeling like all the weight was gone, like she could float up and away. Like the momentum of the swing had knocked the joy loose from where it’d been trapped inside of her.

“’S fun, yeah?” Jamie said, grinning at her laughter. “I used to do it like this.” She hauled the empty swing backward then ran forward and jumped on, standing up to swing out over Bly, leaning forward—becoming practically horizontal to the ground a hundred feet below—like an absolute maniac.

Dani grabbed the swing as it came back, tethering Jamie to safety, not really keen to test fate on what had already been an exceptionally eventful day.

Jamie looked down, smirking at her. Dani offered a hand and Jamie took it, jumping down but not letting go. And in the time it took for their eyes to meet, something between them changed. Fell into place.

Jamie shifted her hands, wrapped her fingers around Dani’s wrists and slowly walked her backwards until she was pressed against the tree. She lifted Dani’s hands over her head, held them there against the bark. Her eyes traveled over Dani’s face, down her forehead, her nose, down to stare at her mouth, then back up to her eyes.

Dani’s breath caught. The way Jamie was looking at her—there was more than just heat in that look. There was reverence. They were so close, breathing each other’s air.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed and her words came on a soft breath. “You are...so beautiful.”

Still clasping Dani’s hands above her head, she leaned down to brush her mouth across Dani’s collarbone. _Yes._ Dani couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t talk. She just _wanted_. Jamie’s lips moved to brush against her neck, soft and barely touching. Then her teeth were tugging on her earlobe, the lightest scrape. She pulled back, just enough to find Dani’s eyes.

The last thing Dani saw before her eyes drifted shut on a whimper was Jamie’s half smile, rogue and resolute as she leaned in, closing the slight distance between them. 

Their mouths met, smile against smile, and Dani’s entire body reacted, arching, pressing into Jamie.

_Finally._

Jamie kept Dani’s hands locked above her head as she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into Dani’s mouth and anchoring Dani’s hips with her own when Dani rolled against them. An electrical storm was surging through Dani, bursts of energy pulsing in every nerve Jamie touched with her tongue, her hips, her hands. And lower, between her legs, where already she could feel herself getting wet. _From a kiss._ It might’ve been embarrassing, but Dani had waited twelve long years for this. And she wanted more.

She wrestled her hands free, brought them down, scrambling, grasping at Jamie’s hips, pulling them close so she could surge against them. Jamie’s mouth slid past hers, rested in the valley between her neck and shoulder, even as her hips worked against Dani’s.

It wasn’t enough friction and Dani pulled at her frantically. Jamie trailed her mouth up Dani’s neck, dragged her teeth across her jaw. Back to her mouth where their tongues met without pretense, hot and needy. Jamie shifted and her leg moved between Dani’s thighs and _fuck_ that was exactly what Dani needed so she pushed into it, dragged her aching core up Jamie’s thigh, jaw sliding open at how fucking good it was, how fucking incredible it felt.

They’d stopped actively kissing at some point, both of their mouths open and panting against each other and Dani whining and grinding down on Jamie’s thigh and Jamie tilting her head down to watch and Dani growing more and more mindless, leaning in to bite Jamie’s exposed neck, pulling a hoarse whine from Jamie that Dani was pretty sure could make her come from its sound alone.

“Fuck.” Jamie spun away from her and Dani was left there, panting and sagging against the tree and really wishing Jamie hadn’t stopped because she’d been _so close._ Jamie spun back around to look at her, hands on her head and elation on her face. “No, stay there—” She pointed a finger when Dani started toward her. “Don’t move. I need a minute, I’m—” She shook her head, laughing a bit and sat down on the swing a safe distance away.

“But—why?” It was all Dani could manage. She was wound so tight, still panting.

“Because I don’t fancy takin’ you up against a tree the first time but I was seconds away from doin’ just that,” Jamie said.

 _The first time._ The words penetrated the haze in Dani’s head. They made it real. It was happening— _would_ happen. It also meant Jamie planned on it happening more than once.

Jamie had her legs stretched out, feet on the ground, holding herself steady on the swing. Her lips were swollen and she was holding the ropes, looking at Dani like she was just a little bit afraid of what might happen if she touched her again.

Dani pushed off the tree, clasping her hands behind her back and taking several strides in Jamie’s direction until she was standing right in front of her.

The swing’s seat was large enough for Dani to climb on, one knee and then the other, holding the rope on either side above Jamie’s hands. She didn’t give Jamie a chance to escape, and it was all Jamie could do to steady them with her feet against the ground as Dani settled over her, straddling her. Their eyes met and they smiled, in part because it was ridiculous to be attempting this on a swing, but also because they both wanted more, Jamie’s honor be damned.

The plank was wide enough for Dani to sink down into Jamie’s lap, denim against denim. With one hand still clasping the rope for balance Dani slid her other hand to Jamie’s neck, taking her fingers up into her hair, watching as Jamie’s eyes rolled back and closed at the sensation. Jamie’s head tipped back, pushing into Dani’s fingers and Dani took the opportunity to capture her lips again, softly at first but then with a hunger as Jamie’s mouth opened, her tongue moving to find Dani’s. Jamie’s hand came up to cradle Dani’s jaw and their mouths slotted together, all finesse lost as they tried to swallow each other whole.

Jamie’s hands slid inside Dani’s jacket, down her sides until she was grasping her hips, holding her in place, pressing her down into herself. When Jamie shifted, pushing her own hips up just slightly, Dani gasped into her mouth.

_Fuck._

Jamie pulled back, looked up at her with a lazy half smile and Dani realized she’d said it out loud. And maybe she’d be embarrassed about it later but right now all that mattered was feeling that incredible throb between her legs again so she pushed down again, writhed against her, and this time when Jamie looked up she wasn’t smiling. She was wearing a look of utter concentration, her eyes black and her forehead creased, like the only thing that mattered in the world was fucking Dani through layers of denim. Anchoring Dani’s crotch to her lap and thrusting as hard as she could without losing the balance that was keeping them from swinging free.

Usually during sex Dani’s mind was racing, writing a grocery list or wondering if she’d ever actually finished that series about the serial killer and the women in the bunker. This wasn’t even sex, not really, and Dani’s mind was _gone—_ there enough for her to acknowledge just how far gone she was, but anything more cerebral was just going to have to fucking wait because this, even just this—the writhing and the grinding and the clumsy thrusting—was going to be enough. Jamie was pulling her into each little thrust, holding her there like her arms were made of fucking iron and Dani started letting out small gasps that quickly grew into whimpers, then full on cries.

She was going to come from this and how the fuck was that even possible. She bowed her head on Jamie’s shoulder, her hips were starting to lose their rhythm and her legs had started to tremble and then Jamie’s mouth was at her ear, muttering encouragements, telling her how gorgeous she was, how good she felt. She kissed Dani’s neck, pushed up into her one last time and Dani exploded.

And just kept exploding. Jamie held her through it as she shuddered, moving a hand from Dani’s hip to her hair, her face, stroking her and calming her as she came down.

Dani kept her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, squeezed her eyes shut as reality crept back in. She’d just climbed Jamie like a tree. And ridden her until…

“Oh my God.” She groaned it into Jamie’s shoulder, horrified. She was never going to look her in the eye again. Never. “Oh my God, I just—”

“…just what?” Her haughty smirk was audible.

“You _know_ what,” Dani said, still fused to her shoulder, which had started to shake. “Are you—are you laughing?” She did look at her then, and sure enough, Jamie was laughing. “It’s not funny, it’s mortifying!”

“It’s really not, Dani, it’s been a long time comin’—” And that set her off again, laughing even harder. 

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying this,” Dani said, but it was getting harder to keep a straight face.

“Dani, it’s _fine_ , obviously that was needed, next time we’ll take it slow—maybe actually make it to a bed, maybe even get a piece of clothing off, a sock maybe, a shoe, before we—"

“Keep it up Taylor, make fun of me all you want—”

“Not makin’ fun of _you_ , Poppins. It wasn’t just you.” Jamie had been looking down but she tilted her head, peering up at Dani with one eye squinted, looking strangely sheepish and Dani’s jaw dropped.

“You did too?” Dani whispered.

A slight shrug. “Twelve years, Poppins, that’s a long time to want somebody and honestly I’m surprised it doesn’t just happen automatically every time I look at you.” She thought about it. “Glad it doesn’t, actually. Be fuckin’ awkward, that.”

They sat for a little while longer and watched the stars, happy and content and planning to ride that wave as far as it carried them. As it stood, it was late and it really had been a long day. When they finally climbed into the truck Jamie rested her head back, rolling it to look at Dani.

“The hut has a bed. If you’re interested.”

Dani grinned and Jamie started the ignition.


	8. Chapter 8

Jamie’s bedroom was at the back of the hut, cramped and cozy, the floor warped and slanted just like it was throughout the rest of the small shack. There were plants hanging from the walls and ceiling, held in place by ropes and iron hangers with a string of lights woven messily between, giving the room a warm glow. There was a bookcase taking up one wall, most likely something Frank had built himself at one time or another. The bed wasn’t large but it was inviting; a pile of colorful pillows at the head of a down comforter, an old patchwork quilt and several patterned blankets strewn on top.

Jamie was eyeing her, watching Dani take it all in. “’S not much,” she said, hands in her pockets.

“It’s perfect,” Dani said. And it really was.

“Bit cluttered.” Jamie shrugged. "And cramped."

Dani went to look at the bookcase. Books on plants, gardening, soil chemistry. Albums by bands that Dani had never heard of but wanted to listen to if it meant knowing Jamie better. A few collections of short stories. The entire top shelf was filled with spiral notebooks, old and weathered and crammed tightly together. Dani eyed them with curiosity.

“What are these?”

“They were Frank’s,” Jamie said. “Man was a hoarder, not just of things but of moments. His life was pretty borin’, just the hut and his plants. Anytime anythin’ unusual happened he wrote it down. I say unusual—‘s more like one year he planted blue violets and they came up red. ‘S a whole page about that one. Had to chuck a lot of his shite just to make some room in this place, but I couldn’t part with his notebooks. S’pose one day I’ll get round to readin’ them all.”

Dani smiled at her over her shoulder. Jamie’s hands were still in her pocket. The electricity from earlier had waned a bit, giving way to an awkward clumsiness as if they weren’t entirely sure how to proceed.

“Got shirts and things,” Jamie pointed then slid past Dani, almost shy in the way she avoided touching her. She opened a drawer and pulled out a tee shirt. “For sleepin’,” she said, handing it to Dani, “if you’re stayin’, I mean.”

Dani changed in the hut’s tiny bathroom, Jamie’s sudden shyness had rubbed off and she was feeling hesitant, unsure. The Ramones tee Jamie had given her hung down to her thighs and she padded back to the room barefoot, wearing just the shirt. Jamie had changed into black sweatpants and a tank top and her eyes caught on Dani’s bare legs before she smiled at her, telling her it was a good look.

Dani stood in the room’s entryway, watching Jamie shuffle things on the bed, making room. Then Jamie flopped down onto the duvet, hands behind her head, and looked at Dani. Slid her eyes to the empty space on the bed beside her, quickly the first time and then again more purposefully.

Dani came closer but stopped halfway. “Why is this awkward? Do you feel awkward? I feel kind of awkward—”

“It’s a bit awkward.” Jamie sat up, shifting until she was sitting cross-legged with her back against the wall. “Look, there’s no expectation here. Just figured with the day you’ve had you might not fancy holin’ up by yourself in the great big castle, alone with your thoughts. Tell you what— _I_ , for one, am fuckin’ knackered. Spent damn near thirty-six hours in the back yard, workin’ straight through and I’m likely to pass out any moment. If it’s alright by you,” she paused, catching Dani’s eyes, “I’d like you to join me here,” she patted the bed, “to sleep. For now. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. Then in the mornin’, when I’m not a fuckin’ zombie, I’d like to make you breakfast. And see where that takes us.”

Something warm spread across Dani’s chest. “I’d like that too.”

They shared a smile and just like that the awkwardness was gone. Dani climbed under the covers without hesitation and after Jamie switched the string lights off she joined her.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment before Dani caught on to the fact that Jamie was laughing to herself. She rolled onto her side, peering down at her, glaring at her in the dark.

“What?”

Jamie shifted so she could look up at Dani. “Been dreamin’ about this since I was fifteen and in my mind there was always music and wine and flattery and seduction followed by a hell of a lot more. Now you’re finally here in my bed wearin’ nothin’ but my fuckin’ shirt and I can barely keep my eyes open. So, Dani Clayton, I’m feelin’ rather a lot like a giant tosser at the moment.”

“You’re quite the lady-killer in your fantasies, aren’t you?”

“You don’t know the half of it, Poppins. Would’ve had you ten different ways by now, you’d be peelin’ yourself off the ceilin’.”

Dani reached over, turned Jamie’s face toward hers. “I like this better. For tonight. Just—just being. Together. And sleeping. For tonight, this is better.” And then she was leaning in, finding Jamie’s lips in the dark and kissing her softly.

Jamie’s hand came up to cup her jaw and when Dani’s hand reached for Jamie’s cheek they shifted to face each other, lying on their sides and moving their lips against each other lazily. Dani nipped Jamie’s lower lip, pulling a soft chuckle from her before their tongues met, tangling and stroking without urgency.

It went on that way for a while, kissing for the sake of kissing, nothing more. But then Dani licked into Jamie’s mouth a little deeper and Jamie made a noise that hinted at more and soon Dani was trying to swing a leg over Jamie, getting caught up in the covers while Jamie’s hand sought out the naked skin on back of her thigh, sliding up to grab her ass.

Dani pulled back, biting her lip, considering her options. Slowly she moved her hand down, moving Jamie’s hand off of her, kissing her gently as she did.

“Sleep,” she whispered against Jamie’s mouth. “For now. So I can have you ten different ways in the morning.”

Jamie pulled back, eyebrow raised. “I’m s’posed to sleep after you say somethin’ like that?”

Dani kissed her again, just because she could. After a moment Jamie flopped back, head against her pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

“Alright fine, Poppins. Sleep for now it is.”

Dani chuckled and out of habit turned over on her side, facing away from her. “Goodnight.”

Jamie didn’t answer, and for a minute Dani assumed she’d already fallen asleep, she’d been so exhausted. But then there was movement, a slight shuffling behind her and an arm snaking around her middle.

“This okay?” Jamie’s sleepy voice was in her ear.

Dani nodded and laced her fingers through Jamie’s, holding Jamie’s hand to her stomach.

“If I’m crowdin’ you and you need to sprawl just let me…lemme know…just lemme…” And then she was out cold, leaving Dani to smile into the dark and clutch Jamie’s arm just a little bit tighter.

Something woke Dani in the early hours when the dawn’s rays had just begun streaming through the window, streaking warm light across the warped wooden floor. She sat up slowly, blinking at the room around her. Jamie had disentangled in the night and was still fast asleep on her back, an arm strewn up and over her face. Dani looked down at her. She’d never had the chance to do this—to look at Jamie, really look. It had always been nervous glances, trying to read each other. Or, more recently, heated exchanges when the goal wasn’t exactly a slow cataloguing. So she took advantage of the moment, watching the way Jamie breathed through her mouth as she slept, tiny puffs of air escaping her parted lips. Her lashes were fanned across her cheeks, Dani could just make them out beneath her arm. She looked so soft like this, vulnerable even, and Dani realized she liked this side of Jamie every bit as much as the swagger. Two sides of the same coin. She found herself memorizing the lines of Jamie’s face, the slight swoop of her nose, the sharp angle of her jaw.

Suddenly there was another loud noise, a crash and a shattering and Dani was certain it was the same sound that had woken her in the first place, one she’d quickly dismissed as imagined in the fog of waking up. Jamie was instantly awake, sitting up beside her, both of them looking in the direction of the shattering.

It happened again, this time even louder. A great _smash_ and clatter like someone was throwing dishware. Jamie was up in a flash, pulling on a sweatshirt and stuffing her feet into a pair of boots by the closed door.

“Stay here a sec, yeah?” She said over her shoulder, yanking open the door and disappearing down the short hall.

But Dani had a bad feeling. She threw on her jeans from the night before as fast as humanly possible, sliding on a pair of Jamie’s flip flops she found on the floor by the bed. More crashing noises came from down the hall—the greenhouse, it seemed, followed by Jamie shouting. Dani ran down the hall to the door of the hut and found Jamie standing in the greenhouse about fifteen feet away from Peter Quint, who was using a fire poker to smash each and every one of Jamie’s potted plants, dirt and shards of ceramic strewn everywhere.

“Ah, good morning!” He said when he spotted Dani, tipping his head and sending her a wide smile, all teeth.

“What—Peter, what are you doing?”

“No, Danielle, the question is what are _you_ doing?” He slid his gaze to Jamie for a split second before looking back at her. “What are you thinking? You’re to be married in two days yet here you are, scratching an itch between your thighs with the local trash.”

“Get out.” Dani pointed at the door of the greenhouse.

Peter swung the poker like a baseball bat, shattering another pot.

“Get out, Peter! I’m not kidding, go back to the manor and pack your stuff because you’re leaving.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

The look on his face sent a stab of apprehension twisting through Dani’s stomach. She stood up taller. “Believe me you’re as good as gone. As soon as Edmund hears about this—“

“Edmund?” He laughed. “You think Edmund will take your side in this? Spreading your legs in the gardener’s hut like a fucking whore—”

Jamie stepped in front of her. “You’ve got five seconds to get the fuck out. One.” Jamie’s voice was low and steady but Peter just looked at her, smiling his arrogant smile. “Two.” Jamie took a step toward him. “Three. I’m warning you, Quint. Four.” She stepped closer. “Five—”

At that exact moment Henry Wingrave materialized from behind a cluster of tall leafy palms, blocking Jamie’s path to Peter. Dani’s apprehension turned to dread, surging in her veins like ice water.

Henry clapped his hands together. “Such valor, Miss Taylor. Tell me, are you always this reckless or is it the drug making you feel invincible?”

“...what?” Jamie’s cautious confusion was palpable, even from behind her Dani could sense it.

“I’ll admit I was impressed, how quickly you managed to clear the back yard.” Henry said. “Working through the night to see it done. I thought to myself there’s a hardworking woman, above and beyond, that’s her credo.” Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “Imagine, I was ready to _reward_ you, give you a few days off for your trouble. But then Peter told me about the incident on the tennis court. How agitated you were, how you couldn’t keep still. And of course there was Viola, always looking for you—a history of substance abuse with that one, we all know well. Then it all started to make sense—the late hours, the ill-temper. And when Peter told me you’d bragged to him about the quality of your product, thinking you might get him to purchase—“

“What?” Jamie asked again, looking over at Peter then back to Henry.

Dani shook her head. “This is ridiculous, _Peter_ is the one who was high—” But no one looked at her.

Peter and Henry were looking at Jamie wearing matched expressions, both arrogant and amused. She stepped around to stand beside Jamie. A united front. But then she saw the look on Jamie’s face and her stomach sunk to the floor. It was resignation, like Jamie already knew how this ended and it wasn’t going to be good. 

“We’re searching you, Miss Taylor,” Henry said, gesturing around at the chaos, the dirt, the broken pots, “because I cannot have a drug addict, far less a drug _dealer_ , working for my family. I’m sure you understand my position. Peter?”

Peter responded to the command, raising the poker and smashing a light blue pot to pieces, followed by a yellow one with tiny green stars.

Jamie’s jaw was clenched. “Frank made those—”

Peter smiled at her and smashed another.

“Stop it!” Dani yelled, pushing past Henry and running to Peter, “You _know_ she doesn’t have drugs, you’re just pissed off because—"

“Oh no?” Peter reached into the ruins of the ceramic pot he’d just smashed, pulling a small bag of white powder from the dirt and shaking it off. He held it up. Henry made a _tsking_ noise and Dani felt like the ground itself was trembling with the force of her own rage.

“That’s _yours_!” She screamed it, barely stopping herself from shoving him, pummeling the smug grin from his face. “Henry,” she turned around, “I saw him with this yesterday on the court, it’s _his_ , Rebecca found it on him, it’s not Jamie’s!”

Henry ignored her, shaking his head at Jamie. “This is disappointing, Miss Taylor. Truly it is. We opened our home to you for a second time, trusted you despite your…colorful…past—"

“No,” Dani went to Henry, “no this isn’t right, I’m telling you they’re Peter’s drugs and he’s framing—“

“Think he already knows that, Poppins,” Jamie’s voice was soft as she stared Henry down. “Reckon it was downright handy, Quint already havin’ the stuff. Made it easy.”

Henry smiled, haughty and menacing, and Dani had to steady herself against a table because it was a fucking setup, it wasn’t about drugs, it was about taking Jamie down.

“Danielle,” Henry said suddenly, brightly, “why don’t you head back to the estate, hmm? This next part might be...difficult for you to see.” 

Dani didn’t move. “Why are you doing this?”

"The police will be here any moment, Danielle,” said Henry, “and it really won’t do Miss Taylor any good if you’re here to make a scene.”

“The _police_?! You called the—no, I’m not going anywhere,” Dani shook her head, “she’s innocent, and I’ll tell them and Rebecca will tell them—everyone knows Peter does drugs, even Edmund will tell you—"

There were sirens in the distance and Dani felt as if time was speeding up, out of control, like she was being pulled along and couldn’t dig her heels in, couldn’t stop what was happening. She grabbed Jamie’s hand because she had to be scared and at the very least she needed to know she wasn’t in this alone, but when she looked at her Jamie was calm, a strange smile on her face.

“Edmund told you they called it off, didn’t he?” Jamie asked Henry. “That’s what this is about.”

The sirens were getting louder.

Henry looked at Dani. “I believe I told you to go back to the estate, Danielle. I won’t ask again.”

But Dani wasn’t going anywhere. Fuck Henry. Fuck all of them. The police weren’t going to take Jamie away. She wouldn’t let them.

“What’s she have on you, Wingrave? What does Dani have?” Jamie was still looking at Henry. “What aren’t you tellin’ her? Cause all this?” She looked around. “It’s a lot of trouble to go to, so the way I see it you’re fuckin’ terrified she’s gonna walk away and you’re graspin’ at straws—"

“I’d be more concerned with myself if I were you,” Henry said, practically growling. “With your prior record you’ll be locked away for the next two decades, and that’s only if I don’t request an even longer sentence. Perhaps I’ve never mentioned,” his face pulled into a grotesque grin, “that the local magistrate is a close friend, as is the county judge.” He shook his head and looked at Dani, still grinning. “What did you think—that you’d ride away into the sunset together? You and this…criminal? Did you honestly think there could be a happy ending in all of this for you?”

Dani was seething. He was baiting her, she knew it, she just didn’t know _why._ It was like the answer was just out of reach but the sirens were growing closer and louder. The sound of the patrol car turning into the crushed stone entry had Henry turning to glance out at the driveway and as he did the morning sun caught against the silver of his belt. Dani stared at it, the silver buckle with his initials and family crest, flashing at her like it had in the spare room just days before.

_I found your belt Henry! You used your own goddamn belt!_

The sudden memory, vivid and loud, slammed into Dani and knocked her off balance, threw her backward into the table.

“Dani?” Jamie was looking at her with concern, even as two policemen were making their way across the yard to the greenhouse.

Dani just looked at her. Something, something had just come back to her. _You must remember, Dani._ But it wasn’t enough, it was disjointed and hazy and even as she tried to hold on to it, tried to sharpen the edges of it, like smoke it was evaporating into thin air.

And then the police were in the greenhouse, handcuffs ready, ignoring Dani when she stepped up to explain the situation, dismissing her when she begged them to come to the house to speak with Rebecca. The male officer was holding up the bag of powder, putting it into an envelope and shaking Peter’s hand. The female officer told Jamie to face the table, put her hands behind her back and it was the way Jamie didn’t even argue, didn’t even bat an eye before obeying, that finally broke Dani.

Hot angry tears were spilling down her face because this was completely fucked up and wrong and she was totally helpless to stop them. The handcuffs were on and the woman tightened them carelessly, making Jamie wince as she started pulling her toward the door.

“You’re hurting her,” Dani said, following them, “stop pulling her like that, she’s not resisting, you don’t need to drag her—”

“Dani.” Jamie said it softly, glancing over at her with soft eyes and a smile. “’S okay. I’m okay. I can handle myself, yeah? We’ll get it sorted.”

“But they—you didn’t do anything wrong—they’re lying—” Dani was blubbering now, it was too much and she couldn’t stop herself, her nose was running and she could barely see through her tears. 

“Hey, look at me. Poppins, look at me—” Jamie waited until she did. “Chin up. Twelve years, remember? Not gonna let somethin’ like this ruin things now.”

She was putting on a brave face for Dani’s sake, Dani knew. She also knew the least she could do was return the favor, stay strong and not make it harder. She sniffed, wiped an arm across her face and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’m going to go wake Rebecca up, you’re not going to have to stay there, they can’t hold you for this. We’ll figure it out I promise.”

“I know you will,” Jamie said with a wink and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She looked defeated, like they’d already won.

The officer opened the car door and before Jamie ducked into the backseat she glanced at Dani one more time. “Somethin’s up, Dani.” She nodded toward Henry and Peter, still talking with the other officer by the greenhouse. “This is about you, I don’t know what they’re after but promise me you’ll be careful, keep a weather eye, yeah?”

Dani nodded and bit her cheek to keep from screaming when the officer pushed Jamie into the backseat, harder than necessary. A minute later the other officer climbed into the driver’s seat and then they were off, taking Jamie with them.

As the car disappeared down the road Dani felt her rage returning. She turned on Peter and Henry, fists balled by her sides.

“You’re a fucking liar, Quint, you’re a fucking liar and I won’t let you get away with this, I fucking swear you’re going to wish you never—”

“My, my, my,” Peter said, stalking toward her, “such fire.”

“Fuck you, you toxic fucking fuck—”

“Language, Danielle! This isn’t like you at all.” Henry said in a voice too bright and jovial.

“That’s what happens when you go to bed with filth,” Peter said, keeping his eyes on Dani as he spoke to Henry. “You let filth touch you,” his eyes slid down Dani’s body, “let it inside of you, then filth is what comes out.”

“Really, Peter, that’s all a bit crass. As it were, Danielle, I would like to see you in my office, if you don’t mind. We have,” he widened his eyes at her, shaking his head, “quite a few things to discuss.”

She spun on her heel, marching in the direction of the estate. He wanted to talk in his office, fine. She’d pull Edmund in too, tell him exactly what his father and best friend had just done. Then she’d get Rebecca and together they’d get Jamie.

Henry’s office was in the front of the house on the first floor, down a dark paneled hallway. She’d only been inside it once before—she had Edmund had been ten playing capture the flag and Edmund had hid his flag in his father’s desk drawer. Henry had found them there and it was the first time Dani heard him raise his voice. The first time she saw him get in Edmund’s face, the first time she saw Edmund shrink away from him in fear. The first time she realized that Henry Wingrave was not, in fact, anything like her own father had been.

She waited for him, pacing back and forth in front of his desk, seething. Finally she heard him in the hall. When he stepped inside, Edmund stepped in after him.

“Edmund! Edmund I need to talk to you, Peter—”

“Sit down, Danielle,” Henry said in a voice that didn’t leave room for argument. He closed the door and stepped around to sit at his desk.

Dani glanced at Edmund. He was acting strange, staring at the ground. His hair was disheveled and he wouldn’t look at her.

She sat on the edge of one of the seats facing Henry’s desk and Edmund sunk down into the other.

“Alright,” Henry said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him, “as I said, the three of us have some things to discuss. But first—Edmund, you’ve something to say to your fiancé, yes?”

She looked at Edmund.

“Dani,” he still wouldn’t look at her, he just stared at the floor, “I was wrong. I want to get married. We shouldn’t call it off.”

“This—Eddie, what happened?”

“It was a moment of confusion. Cold feet. But I’m ready to marry you. I want to.”

“What is this?” She looked at Henry. “What’s going on? Peter, now Edmund—did you _recruit_ them? To bully me into seeing this through?” He didn’t answer and her anger was surging. Fuck this entire day. “Edmund, what is _happening_? Why won’t you look at me?”

He did look at her then, a split second glance before he turned away.

“Oh my God.” She jumped up, turning his face back to hers. His eye was swollen shut. Purple and red and mottled with broken blood vessels. She looked at Henry. “Was this—was this you? Did you hit him?”

“Sit _down_ , Danielle,” Henry said with agitated ferocity.

“Listen to him, Dani,” Edmund hissed in a whisper, “please.”

She sat back down because what else could she do? It was like they were playing chess with her but she couldn’t see the board.

“Now,” Henry leaned forward, “listen carefully Danielle, because I’m going to explain exactly how things will proceed. You’re going to go upstairs and clean yourself up. Then you’re going to join the women for brunch and you’re going to play the part of the eager bride and gracious hostess. In two days’ time you will marry Edmund as planned, and you will do so with a smile on your face. And for Christ’s sake Dani, you will put that goddamned gardener out of your head. Have I made myself clear?”

As he’d been speaking she’d been looking at the floor, staring at a small sunbeam in the corner where a streak of light was peeking through the edge of the window’s blinds. She could feel it starting deep within her—the numbness. The self-preservation. Shut down all the feelings, do as they say.

“Danielle, have I made myself clear?” Henry was waiting.

She stared at the sunbeam. At the empty space of floor. There was a line there, a discoloration in the floor’s wood creating a rectangle, a patch of floor that was darker than the rest. Just like her life. A splotch in the corner of the Wingrave estate, not all that different from the rest of the family but decidedly not the same.

“Danielle?” Henry was growing agitated.

“Dani.” Edmund urged softly.

Dani dragged her eyes away from the rectangular outline on the floor and looked at Henry. “You’ve made yourself—” Suddenly her stomach dropped like it was made of stone, hitting the floor and falling straight through, falling and falling. _The outline on the floor._ She looked down at it again. Her heart was beating backwards. “Where is the chest?”

Henry took a moment to respond. “What chest?”

Dani didn’t look at him, she just pointed to the corner. “The outline on the floor. There was a chest there once, wasn’t there? And now it’s gone. Where is it?” When she finally looked at him she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Henry Wingrave looked petrified. Pale and wide-eyed, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He recovered quickly, fixing his poised façade back in place. But Dani had seen his mask slip and she knew she was closer. Closer to whatever all this was, and she was starting to believe it was all part of the same puzzle. Miles, Flora, her parents. The goddamned wedding.

When Henry spoke again his voice was low and measured. “You will marry Edmund in two days’ time because if you don’t,” he looked at Dani with wild eyes, placing a solitary finger on his phone’s receiver, “all it takes is one phone call. Just one. Prison is such a dangerous place, Danielle. People get hurt all the time. And worse. It would be such a shame, I’m sure you’d agree, if Miss Taylor happened to be in the wrong place…at the wrong time…”

A dark storm was swirling in Henry’s eyes. He was looking at her with barely contained rage. Whatever she’d just done, whatever door she’d just opened, she wasn’t just a pawn to him anymore. She was the opponent. His adversary. But Dani didn't blink and she didn't look away, she met the churning storm in his eyes with the unfailing calm in her own. She'd let her fist clench by her side when he'd threatened Jamie, pressing her nails into her palm, but that was all she allowed herself. She wouldn't back down. She wasn't afraid. Because she'd seen the terror on his face the moment she’d called his bluff. And maybe she couldn’t see the board, maybe she’d only just now realized they were even playing a game, but in that moment she’d learned something, and it changed _everything._ Henry Wingrave was afraid of her. Jamie had been right. Dani had something on him. And if she could just figure out what that was— _when_ she figured out what that was—she was going to win.


	9. Chapter 9

“Let me get this straight,” Rebecca said, hands flying through the air as she spoke, “Henry had Peter plant his own drugs in the greenhouse to frame Jamie?”

Dani lifted her head to nod. She was sprawled across her bed on her stomach, head hanging down over the side. “They’d already called the cops before they even came out to the greenhouse, they didn’t even _try_ to make it look like legitimate.”

“But _why?_ ” Rebecca spun around and looked at Dani, both eyes squinted. “So you’re gay, so what? Sure it’s bad timing, makes for an awkward conversation between Henry and Judy and all the houseguests but I’m still not seeing why they’re punishing Jamie for all of this.” She went back to pacing and wringing her hands.

“Something else is going on, Becs. You should’ve seen Edmund this morning, I think Henry _hit_ him, his eye is—” she shook her head, “bad, and he was so evasive, taking back everything he said last night…”

“So Henry needs to believe you’re going to marry Edmund, otherwise he’ll call his prison contacts—” she spun around again, hands splayed, “who has _prison contacts_? He really said that about it only taking one phone call?”

“Yup.” Dani mumbled it into the comforter.

“Who _does_ that?” She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat before sitting down on the bed, rubbing a hand on Dani’s back. “So here’s what we do. You buy us time, play the part, make Henry believe he’s won. And I will get in touch with Calvin.”

Dani lifted her head again, parting the curtain of hair that had fallen over her face with a finger. “Calvin Reynolds?”

“I don’t have any sway here, it’s a completely different legal system. Calvin’s a lawyer and he’s British, so I don’t know Dani, it’s worth a shot. ”

“Didn’t you guys have an enormously messy break up?”

“Such is my love for you, I will humble myself and make the call.”

Suddenly Dani was crying into the bed, her face smooshed against the fabric, letting it soak up her tears. She mumbled into the comforter.

“What’d you say?” Rebecca leaned over to tuck Dani’s hair behind her ear.

Dani lifted her head, leaving a mess behind on the duvet. “You’re my,” she took a shuddering breath, “best friend—” She dissolved into tears again and Rebecca jumped on her, hugging her.

“Obviously.”

Dani had played this role for eighteen years. She could do this. Slip it back on, be Edmund’s cool and collected fiancé for another day or two. Rebecca was going to work behind the scenes, slip away to send texts, emails, phone calls. She was sure that, at the very least, Calvin Reynolds could give them advice. Which was better than nothing.

So Dani showered, fixed her hair so it hung with just the right amount of curl, put on a paisley sundress with a violet sweater, strapped on some Jimmy Choo sandals and a swiped some gloss across her lips. She would be the perfect housewife if it meant keeping Jamie safe.

It was the final brunch before the wedding. Thursday morning brunch would be followed by a Friday evening dinner, and then, if every plan and prayer failed, a Saturday afternoon wedding. But it wouldn’t come to that, Dani was sure. And in the meantime, she could do this. One minute at a time. One foot in front of the other.

Dani entered the dining room to a sea of middle-aged women dressed in various patterned pastels like walking Easter eggs.

“Danielle!” Judy was by her side in a flash. “Come, come sit, Hannah is just about to bring things out.”

Dani eyed the woman by her side, tried to gauge whether or not she was in on any of it. Jamie. Calling off the wedding. It was possible Edmund had told Henry first, separately. Judy seemed every bit her usual self, pretentious and insincere.

“Where’s your friend this morning?” An aunt asked Dani once everyone was seated.

For a split second Dani thought the aunt was asking her about Jamie, but no, of course she was asking about Rebecca.

“She had a work thing come up,” Dani said, unfolding her cloth napkin and spreading it on her lap, “something with a case. She’ll join us when she can.” She smiled and took a sip of grapefruit juice.

“Those career girls,” an older cousin said, shaking her head, “work, work, work. What do you imagine you’ll fill your days with Dani, before the babies come?”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” she sent the cousin a toothy grin, “there’s just so much I _could_ do. Needlepoint, baking and cleaning, reading magazines about needlepoint, baking and cleaning…it’s endless, the list of possibilities.”

“Mmm, well cherish the free time now, because once those babies come—” The cousin made a crazed face as if life ended after childbirth.

“Yeah…I just can’t wait for,” Dani gestured vaguely, “all of that.” She forced a smile and took another sip of juice as Hannah entered with a cart of breakfast foods.

As Hannah set the dishes out the women got to work passing trays and bowls, serving themselves bits of this and that. When all the food was on the table Hannah went around with a pitcher, filling water glasses. When she filled Dani’s glass she leaned down to place it by her plate, pausing by Dani’s head.

“How are we feeling today, sweet girl?” She whispered, giving her a quick glance and Dani’s heart stuttered because Hannah knew, and she was telling Dani she knew.

Dani looked at her. Hannah’s kind eyes were searching her and Dani shook her head, the smallest barely-there shake. Hannah understood. It wasn’t good.

“Later,” Hannah whispered, continuing on to fill the other glasses.

Brunch dragged on and it dragged Dani along with it. Conversations about her dress ( _I hear the neckline is rather bold? Goodness in my day wedding dresses were a symbol of purity, but if that’s the style these days…_ ), conversations about the honeymoon ( _Edmund’s right about not waiting, Danielle. Strike when the iron is hot, drive across Europe while it’s new and exciting and you can barely keep your hands off each other!_ ) and conversations about the wedding itself ( _Judy are you sure you want the photographs done in the foyer? It’s so dark—Oh! I didn’t realize you had someone coming in to do lighting, of course you do, you think of everything!_ )

And then the conversation shifted. Dani wasn’t sure who’d mentioned it first—it might’ve been Aunt Prudence, but the conversation started at the far end of the table and its ripples slowly made their way to Dani’s ears.

“Drugs—yes, drugs! They found them on her this morning, I hear—”

“They did the right thing, hauling her away. You can’t have that sort working for you, they poison everything they touch—”

“And not only with her drug habit, I mean—do you know? Do you know about her…proclivities?”

“Oh, it was obvious what she was. Now, I’ve always said what people do behind closed doors is their own business, but when they start marching it around in public, wearing it like a badge of honor, that’s what I don’t—”

“Exactly! Honestly I don’t know why she was working here in the first place. Apparently this isn’t her first run in with the law.”

“Well they’ve washed their hands of her now. In a cage, that’s where her kind belongs.”

Dani’s knife clattered against her plate. She’d been counting breaths, picturing peaceful beaches, doing everything humanly possible to tune them out, keep from lunging over the table at them.

Everyone looked at her.

“Dani—are you okay?” The cousin directly across the table asked.

Dani was starting at her plate taking long steadying breaths through her nose. She wanted to throw something. Shatter the entire table’s worth of expensive china the way Peter had smashed Frank’s pottery. But if she cared for Jamie at all she would just keep pretending. For the time being, it was the only way.

She blinked. Smiled. “Sorry, yes,” a soft laugh, “I um. I haven’t slept well—”

“Bridal butterflies,” Aunt Moira said decisively. “I remember those.”

“Don’t we all,” said Aunt Prudence, and then they were all sharing stories about their own weddings, leaving Dani to seethe in peace.

Later that afternoon when Dani finally snuck away to her room for a few moments of panic and furious pillow-punching there was a soft knock and then Rebecca slipped in, phone in front of her face as she texted away with one hand.

“I have news,” she said, not looking up from her phone. “Calvin says the arrest is no good if the police didn’t search the place themselves—are you sure it was Peter who found the drugs?”

Dani was nodding. “After destroying the entire greenhouse.”

“Technically the police can’t arrest her on hearsay. They needed probable cause and a search warrant. Same as in the states.”

“So this is good,” Dani stood up, “this is good news, right?”

“It is and it isn’t. On one hand it was a bad arrest. On the other hand, to pull something as brazen as that off on a whim…Henry obviously has connections to people in power. What do you know about him? I feel crazy asking but this sounds like organized crime stuff, Dani. Is there any way his business…?”

Dani sunk back down onto the bed. “It’s just a mining company, I don’t know.” She thought about it. “No, my dad wouldn’t have stood for it if Henry involved the company in that stuff. Unless things went bad after my dad died.” She looked at Rebecca. “Does Calvin think there’s a way to get Jamie out?”

“I don’t know. He was texting me on his way into court, he’s in the middle of a major trial right now but he’s getting back every time he finds a minute.”

“She’s going to have to stay overnight.” Dani was looking at the floor. “It’s getting late and offices are going to close and no one is going to be able to help her and I promised her she wasn’t going to have to stay.”

Rebecca sat down beside her. “No offense Dani, but I kind of doubt she’s holding you to that. You said she knew it was a setup right away, right? That’s because she’s smart. She knows how the world works, she’s been locked up before and she knows people like Henry Wingrave always win.”

“But I promised her. And she believed me.”

“Dan. She was letting _you_ believe it. She was doing it for you.” 

Dani looked at her. “I’m so fucking stupid. So naïve. I thought it was just Peter getting some revenge for yesterday.”

“You’re not stupid. We’re going to figure this out. I’m just saying, don’t beat yourself up if it takes a while…the wheel of justice turns slowly. In reality you’re probably looking at six months to a year before—”

“Six months to a year?!” She fell back and screamed into her pillow.

“We’ll get her out Dani, even if we have to do a social media campaign like they do with wrongly convicted—”

“Yeah, she’ll love that, being the face of some Instagram movement.”

“Better than sitting in prison until she’s middle aged.”

Dani squinted at Rebecca. “You really think it will take six months to a year?”

“Takes a lot longer to get someone out of prison than it does to get them in. And apparently Henry Wingrave’s a powerful guy, so unless you know someone even more powerful…”

Dani lay back and put the pillow over her head. Fuck. This. Day.

“Hey,” Rebecca moved the pillow so she could look at her, “at least you guys had a night together before this happened. I know we’re in crisis mode but Dani—indulge me for like one minute and tell me absolutely every detail—”

Dani glared at her before shouting, “We didn’t even get to!” She grabbed the pillow and groaned into it. “We thought we’d have time this morning. We did…some stuff last night, but. Fully clothed stuff.”

“God.” Rebecca was grimacing, baring her teeth in an it’s-possible-you’re-cursed expression. “This is not your week.”

Dani groaned even louder.

There was a light knock on the door and then it was opening and Hannah was sneaking in, shutting the door behind her. She ran to Dani and hugged her, long and tight.

“She’s all by herself,” Dani mumbled into Hannah’s shoulder. “They just took her and she’s all alone in there.”

“I know, sweet girl. I know.” She was stroking Dani’s hair, rocking her the way she used to when Dani was a child.

“You’ve been working here forever,” Rebecca said quietly, “do you have any dirt on Wingrave?”

Dani was sure Hannah would put her hands up, say she’d help Jamie in any way she could but that she couldn’t be involved in slandering the name Wingrave. But Hannah surprised her.

“He’s mean,” she said, the words bursting from her like she’d been holding them back for years. “He’s cruel to Edmund, always has been, but in the past he’s been more careful to hide it. And he’s ridiculously rich, which I’m sure has helped him on his way, having people like the police and the magistrate in his pocket.”

“But is he hiding something?” Rebecca pressed. “He’s dead set on Dani marrying Edmund, he’s so desperate that he had Jamie arrested just because she and Dani—” She swallowed her next words and glanced at Dani. “Does she know?” She whispered.

“I’m not sure,” Dani whispered back with the smallest shrug.

Hannah was giving them both a look. “I _know_.” She eyed Dani. “Couldn’t have been more bloody obvious if you’d carved your initials in a heart on the front door.”

“Right,” said Rebecca, “good. No secrets here. Excellent. So why is Wingrave so determined to have Dani marry Edmund? What’s riding on it other than his pride?”

Hannah shook her head. “I can’t imagine. Not that pride isn’t motivation enough—that man would prefer the sun to wait for his command before rising and setting.”

“My dad used to tell Henry he should be the one working down in the mines because he could just command the coal to come up from the ground,” Dani said, and Hannah chuckled.

“Your dad,” Rebecca turned to Dani slowly, “owned half the company, right?”

“Yeah, it was Clayton Wingrave Mining up until my dad died.”

“And now it’s just Wingrave Mining?”

“I mean…there’s no more Oliver Clayton, and I wasn’t exactly ready to take over at eight, so.”

“But what happened to your father’s share? His stake in the company?”

“Henry lost money when my dad died. He had to sell my dad’s share to break even.”

“Dani,” Rebecca was squinting at her, shaking her head, “you have a Masters in Business from Harvard University. Does that make _any_ sense to you?”

Dani had never thought about it. She’d been eight. She’d believed what she’d been told. Running the company by himself had cost Henry millions, he’d said. She’d believed him. And that was that. Thinking about it any harder was sad. She couldn’t bear to think about any of it—not the happy times before nor the dark days just after. It was a closed chapter and she’d never thought about it. Not any of it.

But now, sitting on her bed with Rebecca and Hannah, she started to. And Rebecca was right, it didn’t make sense. The company didn’t fail or falter when her father died, it kept on going as it had. Pulling lumps of coal out of the ground and carting them off to every corner of the United Kingdom and beyond. Her father’s death hadn’t slowed down that conveyer belt, not in the least. So how could Henry have lost money? Undoubtedly there’d been paperwork, added responsibility, but if anything he should have stood to _gain_ money, no longer having a partner. 

“Business Law 101, Dani. A class we took together once upon a time, remember?”

Dani looked at Rebecca and nodded, feeling very much like the world was going to shift and rearrange beneath her feet again at any moment. Another cornerstone of her life would crumble and her reality would have to build itself back up around it.

Rebecca was getting fired up again. “What happens if a business partner dies, Dani? It’s basic beginner business school stuff.”

She wasn’t wrong. “Either a buyout or a takeover.”

“Both of which would’ve meant a ton of money for _you_.”

“I asked them once,” Hannah said softly, “I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I asked if there was a trust for you, Dani. Henry said the same thing to me—he’d lost money when Oliver passed, and Oliver’s shares were sold to cover the difference.”

Rebecca was shaking her head. “He lied.”

“So this is all some grand scheme to what—steal my dad’s money?” Dani asked. “It was eighteen years ago and honestly I don’t even care if he _did_ take it, I just want a clean break from this family, from all of this.”

“But Dani, there has to be more to it. If he’d stolen all he was going to get he wouldn’t be keeping you around like this. There’s a reason he’s afraid to lose you.”

“Forgive me for saying so,” Hannah said, “I’m certainly not versed in this sort of thing but Dani, your family was…very well off, and it’s strange to think there wouldn’t have been some sort of inheritance, a separate sum set aside just for you that had nothing to do with the business shares.”

Rebecca was nodding. “You’re right. It makes no sense.”

Dani put her head in her hands. She was exhausted. “I just want—” She looked back up at Rebecca and Hannah. “I just want to get Jamie out of there.”

But Rebecca wasn’t listening. Suddenly her face changed, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was reading the answer in thin air. “There’s an incentive trust. I guarantee you that’s what this is all about.” She was frantically typing away on her phone.

“What’s an incentive trust?” Hannah looked between them.

“It’s like an inheritance with conditions,” Rebecca said, scrolling and clicking away, “okay here, this says ‘an incentive trust is created to induce specific behavior in beneficiaries by specifying criteria that must be met for disbursement of funds’. Basically you only get the money if you meet certain criteria, hit certain milestones.”

“Seems rather manipulative, no?” Hannah asked with a worried brow.

“Actually it’s smart,” Rebecca said, “rather than giving your kid a fortune for nothing you make your kid work for it. It’s meant to teach rich kids the value of hard work, make them earn it instead of just inheriting it.”

Something fluttered in the back of Dani’s mind. Edmund, five years old and being given a check at his birthday party, Henry making a big deal about Edmund having millions before he was even tall enough to see over the bank’s counter. That night at home with her parents, overhearing them chuckling at how ridiculous it was, giving a five-year-old a fortune. How when the time came they would help Dani appreciate the responsibility of privilege, rather than the entitlement to it.

“That’s actually—I think you might be right, Becs, that sounds exactly like something they would’ve done—”

Rebecca was nodding. “Who handled their estate? That’s the missing link here, someone must’ve been given the papers specifying the details of your inheritance.”

Dani shrugged helplessly. “I was eight.”

“Okay, I’ll put some feelers out, it’s possible the Wingraves use the same estate firm so if I call around maybe I can find out—”

“Let me,” Hannah said, suddenly sitting up straighter. “I clean his office. If there’s paperwork on either estate it’s in his files and I’ll find it.” She patted Rebecca’s knee. “You focus on getting Jamie out before this one dies of pining,” she put her other hand on Dani’s knee, “and you Dani, keep them distracted with the keen bride charade. Go on, practice, show us that radiant smile—”

Dani tried. It was more like a slow reveal of every tooth in her mouth.

“No, not that, please stop,” Hannah looked horrified. She patted Dani’s knee again. “Perhaps just the occasional demure glance.”

Dani’s shoulders slumped. “This is torture. And even if we find something, I mean say Henry did steal from my family, it’s not like we can just call the police and have him taken away—proving that sort of thing takes time, if it can be proven at all.” She shook her head. “Meanwhile Jamie’s in a cell and if Henry figures out we’re poking around he’ll have someone—what if she gets hurt? It’ll be all my fault, she’s there because of me and what if he has someone hurt her or…he threatened to have her _killed_ Hannah, he said she’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time—"

“Lord help her,” Hannah whispered, shaking her head before pulling Dani in for another hug. “Listen to me Dani, you listen to me—if Henry’s caught with his hands in the Clayton inheritance even his friends at the courthouse won’t be able to save him. Your parents had powerful friends too, you know. Be patient. I know it’s hard, love. But be patient.”

There was another knock on the door and they all froze. Hannah stood, smoothing her blouse, looking back at Dani and Rebecca before pulling the door open.

“Can I come in?” A voice at the door said.

Hannah pulled the door wide and it was Viola standing there, looking nervous.

“Yeah, come in, close the door behind you though,” Dani said.

Viola didn’t just close the door she locked it, then turned around looking sympathetic. “I didn’t come to the brunch because I hate literally all of them, but I figured I should check on you. How are you holding up?”

Dani raised one shoulder. “I’m not the one sitting in jail.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Obviously wherever this goes I’ll speak for her, character witness and all that. But in the meantime, what can I do? Murder Henry? Bring you Peter’s head on a silver fucking platter?”

Rebecca snorted. “Silver platter’s too good for him. Make it a garbage bin lid.”

“Bravo,” Hannah said, making Dani chuckle because she’d never heard Hannah be malicious before.

“Careful there, you’ll whittle them down to stubs,” Viola said, gesturing to Dani’s hand by her mouth.

“Bad habit,” Dani said, but she didn’t stop biting at the nail she was working on. It wasn’t the night for self-improvement.

“Me too,” Viola said, flashing a hand with nails bitten to the quick. “I have some stuff in my room,” she pantomimed smoking a joint, “if you want to take the edge off—"

Dani looked up at her. “Yeah, maybe—”

“No,” said Rebecca to Viola before turning to Dani, squinting at her like she was nuts, “no! Your girlfriend is wrongly arrested for drugs and you think the answer is drugs?”

Dani shrugged. “I’ve never smoked before. Rock bottom seems like maybe a good time to try. And she’s not my girlfriend, she’s—I don’t know what we are.”

Viola was giving her a look. “She’s your girlfriend. She’s completely mad for you, she has a way of bringing every conversation back round to the topic of Dani Clayton and I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it. It was sweet at first but then it was like I get it, just fuck already—”

Hannah made an undignified noise while Dani’s eyes grew wide.

“Oh please, we’re all adults here. And honestly Dani, I’m a little jealous—all this build up? Make sure there’s nothing flammable nearby when you finally go at it or you’ll kill us all.”

Rebecca was nodding with big eyes. “That’s what I said.”

“Too true,” Hannah sighed, and Dani glanced at her in shock before quickly looking away, her cheeks on fire.

After a long and sleepless night Friday morning came to Bly, bringing with it fierce winds and relentless rain. Rebecca stopped in Dani’s room around nine with coffee and an update.

“Got a late night text from Calvin,” she said, pulling it up on her phone, “he’s trying to reach his friend who works for a firm in Manchester, he thinks his friend will be able to tell us more since Cal’s only ever practiced in the states.”

“Thank him for me,” Dani said, trying to look appreciative despite the sinking feeling that Rebecca had been right and it really would take forever to help Jamie. And the waiting was torture.

When Rebecca was gone Dani let the coffee grow cold, pulling the covers back up and drifting in and out of sleep for several hours. Sleeping was the only way she didn’t have to think about it—how time was slipping away, minute by dreadful minute. The dinner that night was the last time she’d have to face everyone—the last time before the actual wedding. She hadn’t let herself think that far ahead yet, but as Friday morning hurtled toward Friday afternoon she was starting to fear that they were going about it all wrong. Waiting for the proper channels to step in, trusting that the justice system would right itself. It was all taking far too long and unless something changed she’d be marrying Edmund the next day, forced down the aisle by a metaphorical shot gun.

Sleep came to Dani in waves, as did the dreams. Strange, fevered dreams. She dreamed she was a tennis ball, thwacking back and forth across a net, unable to scream and tell everyone how much it hurt, being smacked around by rackets. The dream changed and she was stuck in a tree a thousand feet above the ground and she could see people down below but they couldn’t see her and she shouted herself hoarse but no one could hear.

The dream changed again and this time she was on a blanket in a field of wildflowers, blinking at the sun. A hand touched her cheek and she turned to see Jamie, leaning down to kiss her. Suddenly it was night and the blanket was over them and they were naked beneath a sky of stars, and Jamie’s hand was trailing down Dani’s body and her mouth was at her ear whispering _what do you want_ and Dani wanted _everything_ but when she tried to say so her mouth wouldn’t open, so she reached up to pry her lips apart but she no longer had lips, there was nothing there at all and Jamie didn’t understand why she wasn’t answering and she was pulling away and Dani was screaming _you, I want you_ but no sound was coming out and Jamie was leaving, disappearing into the black and Dani was alone and it was so cold.

She woke then, staring at the ceiling as the wind battered the windows. Rebecca came by again in the afternoon with another update.

“Cal’s friend called me, super sweet guy actually, feels terribly about what’s happened. He said he’s seen it before—a lot of these little villages deal with corruption, police taking a payout to cater to the billionaire locals. The good news is he says she’ll be able to sue for wrongful imprisonment, the bad news is we’re going to have to find a lawyer close enough to take her case but far enough that they’re outside the reaches of the mighty Wingrave family.”

“Could Cal’s friend take the case?”

“He’s a contract litigation barrister, he works with professional athletes. Most of what he told me he was reading off Google.”

Dani closed her eyes. “Becs, the wedding’s tomorrow.”

“I know it is, Dan. I know.”

Dani wore a black dress to dinner. Hair pulled back tight in a low bun. She looked like she was headed to a funeral, which seemed fitting.

Downstairs was abuzz with caterers and guests, both those that had been staying at the house as well as local friends the Wingraves had invited. It was surreal, all the guests in suits and gowns, flouncing around with their surface-level pleasantries and Dani in the midst of it all, expected to pretend that Henry Wingrave wasn’t a monster and that she was there by choice.

She was almost startled when Edmund sat down beside her. She’d…almost forgotten about him in all of it. Someone mentioned his eye and Henry responded quickly with what was obviously a ready-made story about an incident on the golfing course and how in the future Peter needed to be sure he had a wide berth before practicing his swing.

Edmund was looking down at his plate the whole time. It was like whatever had happened yesterday with Henry had sucked the life force out of him. Left just the shape of him behind. Dani reached over, under the table and squeezed his hand.

The dinner happened in flashes. An appetizer of beet salad with candied hazelnuts. Nodding along to pointless comments about the beautiful colors of the salad, the delightful tang of the citrus vinaigrette. Next came a small dollop of foie gras with pickled mustard seed, barely enough for a mouthful yet served on a plate the size of a steering wheel. Dani would never understand rich people no matter how long she was forced to live among them.

By the time the servers brought out the third course (truffled lobster tortellini) Dani was starting to think she might actually make it through the evening without taking a butter knife to her own aorta. If she could just make it through dinner she could spend the rest of the night coming up with a plan. If Rebecca’s friends couldn’t help then she’d just have to figure it out herself.

The fourth course came, a cabernet braised beef short rib with brussels sprouts and sherry foam and Dani poked at it, grateful that there were enough new faces in the room to keep the attention off of her. Grateful that she was seated far away from Henry, who was deep in conversation with a couple of Wingrave Mining investors.

She could see Rebecca looking down, texting under the table every now and then, reaching out to every last legal contact she had in a desperate eleventh hour bid. Dani wasn’t even sure what the goal was at this point. Prove that Henry had stolen money? Prove that Henry had planted drugs in the greenhouse? In a perfect world both of those things would result in his swift arrest, well before the wedding ceremony. But if the past week had proven anything it was that the world was far from perfect.

Edmund got up, dropped his napkin by his plate and mumbled something about the restroom. The servers came to clear places, refill glasses and ready the table for dessert. Edmund sat back down a few seconds later which was odd, he’d just left, but when Dani turned to look at him it wasn’t Edmund, it was Peter. She stared straight ahead, ignoring him. Waited for Rebecca, seated across the table, to notice he’d switched seats, migrated closer. When she finally did notice she didn’t even try to stifle an indignant burst of laughter, and even without looking Dani knew she was glaring, shooting daggers from across the table.

“Evening, Danielle,” came Peter’s lilting voice, “you’re looking beautiful tonight.”

She took a sip of water, crunched on the ice and pretended is was his skull.

“Are you feeling nervous for tomorrow’s festivities?”

She ignored him.

“Personally, I can’t wait,” he said. “Watching my best mate marry the love of his life. What could be better? Weddings are so,” he paused to sip from Edmund’s wine glass, “ _exciting_.”

She just kept breathing. Ignoring him. And breathing.

“I hear there was some excitement today, just the county over,” he said with a small chuckle. “Little bit of a brawl in the jail yard.”

Dani’s stomach flipped. She put her water glass down, tried to act indifferent, but he had her attention now and he knew it.

“Horrid place, jail,” he went on, “not terribly different from the zoo when you stop to think about it. Of course at the zoo you have your lions and your bears and your alligators and they’re all in their separate enclosures, safe as can be. But in jail, well. All the wild animals are thrown together in one cage. And if the other animals decide they don’t like somebody…decide to gang up on somebody well,” he took another sip from Edmund’s wine glass, “that person’s likely to be ripped apart.”

He was baiting her, she was sure of it. She’d been playing their game, following their rules, there was no reason Henry would’ve had Jamie hurt.

Maybe it was her clenched jaw or the way she was gripping her glass with white knuckles, but from across the table Rebecca picked up on the general tone of the conversation and suddenly she was shouting.

“Peter!” She yelled loudly enough for half the table to suddenly stop and turn her way. “Are you drinking from _Edmund’s_ glass?” There was a horrified edge in her voice and more people stopped to stare. “My God, how many times do you need to be told that gonorrhea can be transferred orally?” She signaled a waiter. “We need a new wine glass over here, thanks so much.” She shook her head at a visibly taken aback Peter. “Honestly, Peter. Who else have you put at risk?” She looked around the table dramatically and several people pushed their glasses away, eyeing Peter with disgust.

Peter was wearing that smile—the one that meant he was going to bide his time. He didn’t take humiliation and this would come back to bite Rebecca one way or another. But Dani sent her a grateful smile all the same.

When dessert had been served (olive oil cake with expresso crème fraiche), eaten and cleared, Dani was finally able to say her goodnights and slip away. She headed upstairs, turned down the dark hallway and ran right into Peter Quint and Henry Wingrave, who must’ve slipped out earlier to wait for her.

Her heart was in her throat. They’d just been waiting there in the dark, like fucking hit men or something.

“That little display at dinner,” Peter growled. “Did you put Rebecca up to that?”

“Believe me, any response Rebecca has to your psychopathic narcissism is one hundred percent organic and one thousand percent earned.” She glanced at Henry, remembering what was at stake but still angry enough to explode. “Is this clandestine meeting about Peter’s emasculation or is there something important to discuss? Because I’m exhausted and—”

“Careful, Danielle,” Henry said softly, “I don’t much care for your tone.”

She pushed past them, because she couldn’t do this, the taunting, the bullying. She was doing everything Henry had asked, she didn’t need to take this too.

“Danielle,” Henry called after her, “I’m glad to see you turning in early, getting your beauty sleep for the big day, but if I could just have one more moment of your time—I do think you’ll find what I have to show you to be…compelling.”

She stopped. Breathed in. Out. Turned back around slowly.

Henry was holding up his phone, it was glowing in the hallway’s darkness. He was showing her a picture, a thumbnail it seemed, too small to see from where she stood. She walked over, grabbed the phone from him and looked.

Her heart dropped. Her knees nearly gave out. It was Jamie, wearing a gray jumpsuit and pinned against a wall, glaring at whoever was taking the photo, her lip split and a black bruise blooming across her left cheekbone, another one up on her forehead by her hairline.

“I’ve done every fucking thing you’ve asked of me,” Dani’s voice was an unrecognizable growl. “Why should I keep pretending now? If you’re not going to keep up your end—”

“Oh but Danielle, I have kept up my end of the bargain. She’s still breathing.”

Dani hated that her natural response to blinding rage was tears. She bit her cheek. Hard. She would not cry in front of them.

“It matters this much to you? Me marrying Edmund? Whatever you get out of it—and I know you have some secret stake in it—it’s really worth so much to you that you’d have Jamie _killed_ for it? This is insane!”

“It’s really rather more that Jamie is worth so little,” Henry said, and she could just make out his grin in the dim hallway.

Her vision went red. Her heart was pounding, her head throbbing as she held in all the rage. She had to go. Get out. Because she was going to hit him. Kick him. Grab the nearest heirloom and bash his face in until he was never able to smile his smug grin again.

She turned around, headed in the direction of her room, she needed to get away, she needed to think, to plan.

Henry called after her one more time. “Don’t forget, Danielle. Tomorrow you’ll go down the aisle with a smile, if you please,” he chuckled at his words. “Otherwise the next photograph of Miss Taylor will be taken in a morgue.”

She tried to sleep, but all she saw when she closed her eyes was Jamie’s face, eyes cold and hateful as she stared into the camera. Who had hit her? Another inmate? More than one? A guard? She wanted them all to pay. To get Jamie out and then lock the building, set it on fire, let them all burn. She’d never felt so much rage before in her life.

Sleep was futile so finally, when it was nearly midnight, she pulled on a sweatshirt and snuck downstairs. Into the kitchen. Found some super glue in the junk drawer. Back into the foyer, out the door. Across the lawn, hood over her head as the wind and rain whipped around her. She flicked the light on in the greenhouse. The floor was covered in ceramic and dirt. The tables were even worse.

She found a dustpan and brush in the hut’s kitchen and set to work in the greenhouse, sweeping up the dirt and cleaning off the ceramic shards from Frank’s pots, collecting them in a pile on the only clean table. It took over an hour, sweeping, dumping dustpans full of dirt into a bin, collecting all the ceramic. When she’d finished cleaning she set to work sorting through the pieces of ceramic. She brought a workable selection into Jamie’s hut, spread the pieces out on her kitchen table. There weren’t enough salvageable pieces from any singular pot, but there were several large pieces of the light blue one that she could cobble together with pieces of the yellow one with green stars, and several small pieces from the purple one could fill in the gaps. She started gluing. It was tricky work, but there were enough pieces that after an hour or two she’d recreated a pot of sorts. It was patchworked, a bit like a jigsaw puzzle and far from symmetrical in shape but once the glue dried it would hold dirt. Something could grow in it again. 

Her phone buzzed. A text from Rebecca. 

_Sent one last desperate message to Calvin. Told him the whole story, everything from you being gay to Peter being a piece of shit. It’s like 5:30 in the morning over there right now, I don’t know when he’ll see it or what good it will do but stay hopeful, this is beyond fucked up and they’re not going to win. xoxo_

She hadn't even had a chance to tell Rebecca about the photo Henry had shown her. She still couldn't believe it herself, the nightmare of it all. She left the pot to dry in the kitchen and wandered back to Jamie’s room. It smelled like her. Earthy and warm. In just a single week it had become Dani’s favorite scent.

She dug out sweatpants from Jamie’s drawer. She’d come over in her own, but. She wanted to wear Jamie’s. And when she’d turned off the string lights, crawled under the covers and started to drift off, surrounded by everything Jamie, she silently promised she would make this up to her. The fact that she was here and Jamie was there. The fact that Henry got some nameless thugs to hurt her. To bruise her perfect face. Dani would make it up to her somehow, and then some.

She just had to make it through Saturday without becoming a Wingrave.


	10. Chapter 10

Saturday morning arrived too soon. The sun was back in the sky, all signs of yesterday’s tempest abated as if even the weather was determined to pretend, to disguise the day, to cloak it in sunlight and springtime like delicate wrapping over something twisted and ugly.

Dani was awake. She’d woken with the sunrise, wrapped in Jamie’s quilt and for a moment, one blissful moment, she’d been at peace.

Then it all came flooding back.

Eventually she’d have to go back to the estate. Face it all. Her phone was dead and she needed to check in with Rebecca, find out if any new legal options had presented themselves overnight, and she didn’t know where Jamie kept her charger. She had to go back. But she took a minute to snuggle back down into Jamie’s bed and breathe, ready herself for what was coming. Say a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening, _please let there be a way out._ A way where her name wasn’t Danielle Wingrave by sundown. A way where Jamie was safe.

When she finally rose, washing up in Jamie’s tiny bathroom and returning to the room to fix up the bed, she took it all in once more time. The coziness, the simplicity. A haven in the shadow of the manor, which was more a compound than it had ever been a home. The irony was a sharp sting. Jamie’s house had been here all along, and Dani had barely even noticed it. Hadn’t given it a single thought when she’d passed by. It was just a ramshackle hut attached to the greenhouse. She’d missed so much of what had been right in front of her.

Her eyes trailed around the room, past the bookcase, out the window where the dew was glistening on the grass. Then her eyes traveled back to the bookshelf.

Frank’s journals were sitting there on the top shelf. A collector of moments, Jamie had said. When she’d told her about Frank’s journaling habit Dani had the passing thought that perhaps he’d made an entry the day Miles and Flora disappeared. If she ever conjured enough bravery and resolve to go down that particular rabbit hole, maybe Frank’s journals were a good place to start.

But now, standing there on the morning of her wedding feeling more alone than she’d ever felt, she wasn’t thinking about Miles and Flora, she was thinking about her parents. What they’d say if they were there. Would they see through her? See how desperately unhappy being Edmund’s fiancé had made her? Would she ever have become his fiancé in the first place if they were still alive?

A wedding—a joyous _consensual_ one—without one’s parents was an unfair thing in itself. But this. This quagmire of manipulation and deceit and blackmail and wrongness—she just wanted to crawl into their arms and cry. She was desperate for them in a way she hadn’t been since she first lost them so many years earlier, and though she’d never have them whole again, though she couldn’t bring them back, maybe she could steal just a piece. A collector of moments. That’s what Jamie had said. Maybe some of Frank’s moments had included her parents. It was possible, maybe even probable that Frank had written something about their accident. It was an unusual thought to have—she was so used to shutting down that part of her life before she could think about it, but standing there it occurred to her that there were probably crumbs, bits and pieces of her parents’ lives, still hidden and scattered across the estate. Maybe Frank’s writings could be the first piece she salvaged.

It took a while to find the right book. The notebooks were positively filled to the margin with Frank’s slanting scrawl. There were lots of entries on plants. The arrival of a long awaited delivery of flowers from overseas. The decision to put a koi pond in the hedge maze. There was an entry on Jamie getting sent home from school for fighting. _But much as I gave her a wigging for it,_ Frank wrote, _won’t deny it does my heart some good to know she won’t just sit and take life’s unfairness._ Dani smiled. And then her heart broke just a little bit more, because at the moment Jamie was doing exactly that—taking life’s unfairness.

Dani flipped through notebook after notebook, barely any of the entries were dated and the books had been crammed onto the shelf in no particular order so it was an arduous task trying to make sense of it all. She’d gone through over half of them and was considering giving up when an entry caught her eye— _Jamie turned eight today._ Jamie turned eight. They’d all turned eight the same year. It was the right year, the right book. She’d found the right book. She flipped through, page after page. And then quite suddenly and rather unceremoniously, she found it.

_Horrible day for Bly, today was. Worse for all of us at the manor. Oliver and Eleanor passed this morning, there was a terrible accident here on the grounds by the lake. Henry found their car underwater early this morning, seems they went off the road, down the embankment and into the water. God rest them, it’s a damned tragedy to be sure._

The next entry was written in different colored ink, seemingly several days later.

_Strangest thing happened. Coppers have been up and down the place since the accident, today they finally got round with speaking to me, asking the usual questions. Told them sure, I knew Ollie, good fellow, upstanding sort. They asked me if he had a habit with the drink and I said I didn’t know him that way but surely not, he didn’t seem the type at all. Coppers tell me it’s not been confirmed but it seems that maybe Oliver had been drinking that night, that the car ran off the road when the Claytons were returning from a drive into town for some paint, some supplies for the treehouse he’s been working on out back. But it isn’t possible it happened that way, says I to the copper, see I was out watering the orchids by the front gate and I saw Ollie and Eleanor return from town. Drove right by me they did, waved and smiled. Right as rain, they were. Pulled into their own driveway and then the both of them took off to the backyard, saw them with my own eyes. Thought to myself that little girl will be pleased as punch come tomorrow, the two of them fixing up that little treehouse sweet and pretty for her. So I says to the copper I says you’ve got it wrong. The Claytons made it home that night. It’s what happened after they got there that’s due investigating, I says. Strange thing of it was, the copper didn’t seem keen to hear much more from me. But I reckon coppers have a way of doing things, and I can’t imagine they’d take kindly to an old gardener telling them the way round their own inquiry. Best leave the investigating to them I suppose. Still. Gave me an odd feeling, it did._

The hut was spinning. There was a high pitched ringing in Dani’s ears like the overload of information and emotion was making her entire being short circuit. She read his words over and over.

_The Claytons made it home that night._

It was like the entire foundation she’d built the past eighteen years on was trembling in the throes of a massive earthquake. If they’d made it home, if they hadn’t simply run off the road accidentally…what _happened_? Why did they get back in their car? How did they end up in the lake?

She frantically flipped through the rest of the notebook, several more notebooks after it, but there was nothing else. Nothing more about the accident. Not another mention of the name Clayton.

She ran from outlet to outlet, searching the entire hut for Jamie’s phone charger. She found it in the kitchen, plugged in by the kettle. She hooked up her phone and waited, biting relentlessly at her nails. She waited. And waited. Finally the screen lit up. She’d spent eighteen years scared every time she typed her own name into a computer, scared she might inadvertently pull up an image of her parents’ bodies being carted away by the coroner, afraid there might be photos of their car being pulled from the water. She’d been so terrified to be reminded of the tragedy it was like she’d been walking backwards, staring down the past to be sure it wasn’t chasing her. But the thing about walking backwards is that you can’t see where you’re headed. Walking backwards had brought Dani here, to this twisted, ugly day, and that truth was far more distressing than any photograph of her parents’ accident could ever be. The treehouse had just been boards and nails. Photographs were merely pixels on a screen. 

She pulled up the internet, took a deep breath and typed her parents’ names into the search bar.

There were photographs of the car. But it was just a car, water pouring from its sides as it was lifted from the lake. Just a car. She could look and know it was their tomb and still draw another breath. The world didn’t end as she looked at the picture. It was just a car. There were photographs of her parents at glossy red carpet events, the sort of pictures that become tabloid fodder after a tragedy. She could look at those too. There was an ache, seeing her father’s kind eyes, her mother’s wide smile. But she kept breathing. The world didn’t end.

The first few articles were about the accident itself. Words like tragic, unexpected, horror. A tabloid article had run with the rumor that her father had been drinking, published an entire piece about his secret life. Anger flared and then it dissipated. It was just a senseless article, and she was still breathing. Yet another article focused on Dani— _Orphan Heiress_ , the headline read. She skipped that one. She knew how that story went.

She scrolled down and found a forum for armchair detectives, people writing in with their own theories, chatting back and forth about what was true and what was rumor. The forum dated back years, created shortly after her parents’ deaths. All this time, random strangers had been picking apart the details, asking the questions that Dani hadn’t even known needed asking.

Two commenters seemed to be equally invested in their theories, going back and forth with their findings and arguing with anybody who thought Oliver Clayton had been a drunk or that the accident had been simply that—an accident. One of them even claimed to have a cousin at the coroner’s office. Claimed the autopsies had been covered up.

 _There was no alcohol in Oliver Clayton’s system,_ the user wrote, _and even if there had been, how do you explain the bruising around his neck? And if Eleanor Clayton hit her head going into the lake then explain to me why the skull fractures were only on the back of her head?_

 _It can’t be explained, not with the story the police told anyway, that’s why they ignored it,_ another user replied, _plus I work in automobile safety and I can tell you they should’ve had time to get out, even if they’d passed out at first—that lake is way too small, it’s super suspicious._

 _Totally,_ the first user wrote, _I’ve always thought the car thing was staged. Someone had to push that car out to the middle of the lake, there’s no way that happened accidentally. Basic science—car rolls down hill, enters water, momentum stops and the car comes to a rest. It doesn’t turn into a boat and float to the middle. Makes no sense._

Dani was going to be sick. She made it to the bathroom just in time.

After, when she’d splashed her face with water, used some of Jamie’s mouthwash, she stared at her face in the mirror. She could see them there, her parents, reflected in her own blue eyes, the slant of her nose, even in the way her ears stuck out just a little more than she’d like them to, the same way her father’s had. What if it hadn’t been an accident? What if they’d been murdered? And what if, for eighteen years, she’d believed a lie?

She could feel the panic coming. She could see her chest in the mirror, moving erratically, hyperventilation starting to take over. She shut her eyes. _No._ Not today. She could panic later. Right now she needed to force it down. Demand her body push through. So much depended on Dani Clayton staying strong.

She didn’t even bother knocking on Edmund’s bedroom door, she just stepped inside and locked it behind her.

“Dani?” He was by his mirror in boxers and a button up, attempting to fashion a bowtie with just one eye—the right one was still swollen shut.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I know. I know, I looked for you last night but I couldn’t find you—this is a mess, Dani, but I think if we just go through with—"

“It’s not that. It’s—” she pulled out her phone. “I looked up my parents’ deaths online.”

He stopped fiddling with the bowtie and looked at her.

“Do you realize there are people who think it wasn’t an accident? Did you know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s all over the internet Edmund, even Frank wrote about it in these notebooks he kept—I know it sounds crazy Edmund but it makes _sense_ , the things these people are saying—the lake is so shallow, the only reason the car was submerged is because it was in the very center, the deepest part, but how did that happen? Someone had to _put_ it there! And the autopsies—”

“The _autopsies_? Dani, what—”

“They think it was your father.”

“Who thinks—the people? The random people on the internet?” He let out a little laugh.

Dani took a step closer. “People who’ve read about it, looked into it way more than either of us have.”

Edmund went back to fixing his bowtie. “There are people on the internet who think the Earth is flat and that Elvis Presley faked his own death. The police say it was an accident, Dani. It was an accident. Why are you doing this?” He turned back to her. “Is this—is this your plan? Throw a crazy conspiracy theory out there and hope it scares my dad into letting us do what we want?”

“I’m doing this because for the first time in eighteen years my eyes are wide open.”

“And this revelation just happens to coincide with the wedding you don’t want to have?”

“Edmund,” she crossed the room, grabbed his arm, forced him to look at her as she spoke, “something is very wrong here. He _hit_ you! He hit you when you tried to call it off! He’s threatened Jamie’s life! Don’t you want to know _why?_ Don’t you want to know what the hell is going on?” A different thought occurred to her. “Or do you already know?”

He made a face. “Am I in on some big conspiracy? Is that what you’re asking me?”

Dani gave a small shrug and searched his face. “Are you?”

“ _No.”_ He said it emphatically. “There is no conspiracy, Dani. Just an angry old man used to getting his way.”

“Explain Peter then. Suddenly Peter is his lackey? Have you even confronted Peter about all this?”

Edmund shook his head. “Peter’s an idiot. He’s enamored by power, he probably thinks my dad will give him a position at the company or something.”

“There’s more to it. I know there’s more and if you’re not going to help me—”

“Help you do what?” Edmund was getting heated, she could hear it in his voice. “Why are you doing this, Danielle? Look, after the wedding it will be between you and me, we can make the rules.” He held her shoulders. “I promise we can just be married on paper—if you’re—if you want to be with women you’re free to do that, okay? We can be open as long as we’re discreet—"

“What kind of life is that, Eddie? You really want a wife who can’t—can’t be with you that way?”

“He threatened to cut me off.” Edmund ran a hand down his face. “If I don’t marry you I lose it all. He’s going to cut me out of the company, take away my allowance, just,” he waved a hand, “all of it. Gone.”

“So this is about money for you.”

“Yeah Dani, it is. Sorry if that’s,” he waved a hand, “unpleasantly honest, but I need to look out for myself. If my Dad cuts me out of the company I’m blacklisted—no one will hire the reject son of Henry Wingrave, I’ll be a nobody. Homeless. Without options.”

“But Edmund, _why_? Why is he threatening us into this marriage?”

“Because the alternative is embarrassment? Scandal? He’s already sent our marriage announcement to the papers, he bought a whole page.” Edmund shook his head and grabbed his trousers from his bed, stuffed his legs into them. “I don’t know Dani, I don’t ask questions. I don’t upset him. Because when I do? This is what happens.” He pointed to his swollen eye. “You think you’re the only one who had to pretend to be somebody they weren’t, growing up in this house?”

There was a light knock on the door and Dani opened it. Hannah seemed surprised to see Dani there in Edmund’s room but she quickly recovered with a smile.

“Dani, just the person I was looking for. The hair and makeup people are here, they’re waiting in your room. I’m supposed to collect you for them.”

Dani glanced at the clock on Edmund’s bureau. 10:15. Photos in the foyer were scheduled for 11. The wedding was at noon.

She sent a quick text to Rebecca— _I need to talk to you, meet me upstairs,_ and then followed Hannah back to her room. Halfway there Hannah stopped, looked up and down the hall and then pulled Dani into an empty bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Henry caught me cleaning his office last night, he’s been watching me today, he’s suspicious,” Hannah said.

Dani’s heart sunk, but then Hannah was pulling a collection of envelopes held together with a rubber band from her skirt. “Put these in your pocket. Hide them somewhere in your room—somewhere they won’t be found, even if Henry comes looking. Whatever you do, do not read them now, you have to promise me—it’s too dangerous, Dani.”

Dani glanced at the envelopes. They had her name on them. “This is my dad’s handwriting—”

“Put them _away_ ,” Hannah hissed. She cupped Dani’s cheek. “Patience, love. Trust me.” And then she was moving toward the door.

Dani grabbed her hand. “Wait—I need to talk to you, I found—I learned that—there’s so much and I think Henry lied about what happened to my parents—”

Hannah put a finger to her lips. There were voices in the hall, right outside the door. Peter Quint and someone else. When the voices faded Hannah peeked out, checked the hall.

“Go on, go get made up,” she whispered, “just pretend for a little longer.” She squeezed Dani’s hand. “Trust me, sweet girl.”

There was something behind her eyes. Something she wasn’t saying. But if Dani couldn’t trust Hannah she couldn’t trust anyone. So she nodded. Hid the envelopes in her sweatshirt pocket and parted ways with Hannah in the hall.

Apparently Mr. Rumbles had an entire team of makeup artists and stylists at his disposal, and he’d brought them all to the manor that day. Dani’s room was abuzz, someone had set up a mobile makeup station with bright lights and an adjustable chair. There was an arsenal of curling irons and sprays and hair pins set out on a small table.

“There she is!” Mr. Rumbles bounced over, reaching for Dani’s hand and twirling her. “Goodness,” he said, taking in her sweatpants, her muddy shoes. The general despair on her face. “If a tired Romanian vagabond made love to war torn Croatia and bore a child you, muffin, would be that child. But no matter! Like a fairy godmother I’ll wave my wand and all my little fairies will fix you up, like a phoenix you will rise from the ashes once again—Rudolfo! Boris! Come, help this little dove, it’s most dire as you can see—"

When the stylists asked Dani to change so she wouldn’t be pulling a sweatshirt over perfectly styled tresses she took the opportunity to slip the envelopes into an old backpack high up on her closet shelf. Good enough for now.

She spent the next thirty minutes with five people flitting about her like moths around a streetlamp.

“Judy said to frame the face,” Boris the hair stylist was saying, “pulling back everything from the ear up,” he showed her in the mirror, “we’ll pin it up, loose and dreamy, let rest hang down, maybe some beach waves, a little California summertime, yeah? Pay homage to these golden locks?” He ran his fingers through her hair, looking eager and interested in Dani’s feedback.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever Judy wants.” She was distracted by her phone lighting up.

She grabbed it, hoping it was Rebecca but it wasn’t—it was Judy. Telling her she had Dani’s dress and to come to her room as soon as she was done with hair and makeup. Dani sent off another text to Rebecca. _Where are you?!_

“Oh Danielle,” Judy’s hands flew to her mouth when Dani walked into the master bedroom at the end of the hall. “You’re exquisite.”

Dani hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. Boris had tried to show her but she’d been busy sending off rapid fire texts to Rebecca, each one increasingly desperate. _Rebecca seriously wtf. BECS. Becs I don’t know what to do. PLEASE COME UPSTAIRS I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. Are you okay did something happen? You’re scaring me Becs._

Judy turned her to face the full-length mirror, an arm around her waist. “Look at yourself.”

Dani looked. They’d swept the top half of her hair into a loose French twist, leaving rest of it to hang free in waves of blonde. A look that was both bohemian and elegant in equal measure. Her eyes were rimmed in bronze with bold smoky accents, nothing over the top but enough to make a statement. They’d done something to her eyelashes to make them look five feet long and Rudolfo had mixed at least seven shades of lip liner before declaring he’d created the perfect color for the day—a coralish hue that complimented her skin tone in a way only a true artist could’ve managed.

Judy helped her into the dress, the final missing piece. The final brick in the wall she was entombing herself behind.

When Dani turned around to let Judy button her up she couldn’t recognize the person in the mirror anymore. Dani Clayton was gone. An imposter was standing there, the girl who believed it’d been an accident, the girl who let Jamie get taken away, the girl who was still pretending, still waiting for a miracle to halt a wedding that people were already gathering in the back yard for.

It started with one tear, then another and another.

“Oh, sweetheart—” Judy was rushing over to a table, grabbing a tissue and dabbing Dani’s cheek. “Your makeup—"

“Judy—”

“Shhhh, I know, Dani—”

“I don’t want this,” she whispered, Judy still dabbing lightly at her cheek. “Do—do you know? That Edmund and I—that we talked? That he doesn’t want it either, and that Henry—”

“Danielle.” Her voice had an edge to it. “I can’t help you. If that’s where this is headed. If you’re hoping I’ll intervene, I can’t.”

Another tear fell and Dani tilted her head back, blinking them away to save her makeup and then biting her cheek in anger because they’d gotten so deep into her head she was actually trying to preserve her makeup for this sham of a wedding.

“Listen to me Dani,” Judy was saying, “Henry is a titan. Unmovable. It isn’t just you Danielle, it’s all of us, we’re puppets on a string to him. It’s—it’s the price we pay to live the lives we do. I won’t apologize for it—for making myself smaller to survive. The bitter truth is that it’s just the way the world works. And you’re lucky,” she touched Dani’s cheek, brushed a lock of Dani’s hair from her shoulder, “you’re lucky because Edmund is cut from a different cloth than his father. His heart is good—somehow, despite Henry, Edmund’s heart is _good_ , and you can make it work with him—he understands about...about you and what you need, and yours wouldn’t be the first marriage with an unorthodox arrangement—”

“But I don’t _want_ an unorthodox arrangement, I want—”

A woman poked her head in, said they were ready in the foyer whenever Danielle could come down.

Judy dabbed the tissue beneath Dani’s eyes one last time. “Let’s not speak of this again. Let’s get through the day. You’ll find ways of coping when things get hard and it won’t be the nightmare you’re imagining. Be grateful Dani, a girl could do a lot worse than the name Wingrave.”

 _Be grateful, Dani._ Even with the newfound question of her parents’ deaths hanging overhead that word— _grateful_. It conjured up the obligation that had pulled her back to Bly nine days earlier.

Judy led her down the hall, elbow linked with elbow, either to offer support or to hold her in place, make sure she didn’t run.

They passed a hallway window overlooking the backyard. All the guests were there, milling about, dressed impeccably in floral gowns and three-piece suits. There were rows and rows of white folding chairs, tables with robin’s egg blue runners piled high with gifts. An arbor at the head of it all, picket white and laced with flowers. Flowers Jamie had grown. Watered, tended to with a careful hand. Reduced to this—plucked and put on display for a wasted cause.

The foyer was crowded with cameras and lightboxes, white umbrellas and tripods. A man with a ponytail was commanding the room, telling people where to put what. 

“And she’s here!” The photographer shouted, arms spread wide theatrically when Dani appeared at the top of the stairs. “Boy kiddo—that dress!” He sent her a thumbs up before spinning around, looking here and there. “Groom? Where’s my groom?”

Edmund materialized, dressed in his white button up, a tan vest and a robins egg blue bowtie.

“I want you two together on the stairs here,” the photographer was saying, pointing to the bottom of the stairs before shouting at his assistant to bring the lightbox over. “Not there,” he shouted at a different assistant who was setting up the camera, “the groom’s got a mangled right eye, we’re going to need to play around with the angles to avoid it—”

“Go on,” Judy gave Dani’s back a light push, “I’ll hold onto your phone for you.” She took it from Dani’s hands before Dani could object.

And just like that, her last lifeline was gone.

Before she knew it she was posing for photos, lights flashing, photographer barking at her to smile wider. “Happy! It’s a happy day!” He said, pointing at his own phony smile. “These photos will last a lifetime, smile!” The lights flashed, bright and blinding. “And turn this way kiddo, this way, chin down, yes—” More lights flashing. “Face each other, yes, yes, we’re in love, look into each other’s eyes—” Flash. Flash. Flash.

The panic was coming. It was too late. Rebecca was missing in action. Jamie was still in jail. Hannah had found something but there was no time to look. And Dani was out of options. Her chest was heaving, her vision was swimming. She should’ve run last night. Why hadn’t she run? Banged on the door of every lawyer in England until one finally listened? Until one finally understood the urgency? She should have gone to the jail and demanded they let Jamie out. Begged. Pleaded. She should have told Jamie—she should have told her how much she cared. How much she meant. _I tried_ , she thought, as the lights continued flashing around her, _I tried to get out of this but he was going to hurt you_ — _I couldn’t let him hurt you—_

“And a few photographs of the bride by herself, I think?” The photographer was saying. “At the top there, by the railing between the two staircases.” He pointed Dani up the stairs and set to work adjusting the equipment. Edmund sat down on the stairs, catatonic. Everyone was too busy to notice that Dani was in the middle of a full blown panic attack, fingers grappling at her throat.

They set up white umbrellas on either side of her at the top of the stairs.

“Hands on the railing, yes, yes,” the photographer said. Flash. Flash. Flash. He posed her this way and that, seemingly satisfied that her somber expression was a style choice, like the sulking models on the cover of Vogue, rather than something worth his concern. “One last set,” he said, gesturing for Dani to wait a moment as he shouted more commands to his assistant. “I want to use the wide lens, capture her from the doorway,” he pointed to the front door, “take advantage of this breathtaking entryway.”

They went to work setting up the new shot, hauling the massive lights out the front door so she could be lit from the entry, a burst of light illuminating the entire foyer.

Suddenly Henry burst in from the back sunporch. “Are we nearly done in here?” He asked loudly. “Getting close to the hour.” He looked down at the watch on his wrist.

“Nearly done, just one more shot—” The photographer started explaining his plan for the wide shot to Henry, who could not have been less interested.

Dani stood motionless at the railing, looking down at the foyer. _It’s too late._ No one was looking at her. _Can’t run._ No one was noticing her terror. _Can’t hide._ The way she couldn’t get her breath under control. _Helpless._ Her vision was going blurry at the edges. _Alone._ They’d taken everything—her freedom, her dignity. Jamie. Maybe even her parents. And she was just standing there, doing their bidding. _Weak. Pathetic. Coward._ She was dizzy. Starting to feel faint. The last thing she saw as she started to go down was the burst of light from the lightbox in the doorway, a burst of brilliance that banished the darkness from the room, flooded everything in radiance.

Someone caught her hand before she could faint. Someone else caught her other hand. Then it was like she was suddenly surrounded by an invisible shield, everything happening at the top of the stairs a separate reality from the photo shoot in the foyer. She could still hear the photographer down below, still see the lights, but everything below was muddied, distorted as if it was happening underwater.

The voice beside her, however, was clear as cut glass.

“It was here. This is where it happened.” The little girl—Flora, she was certain now, was holding her left hand, looking down at the scene below.

“You were there and you remember,” Miles said, grasping her right hand.

Dani looked at them, then looked below. In a strange moment she was almost embarrassed to be seen with them, confused as to how to interact with them in the middle of chaos when there was so much at stake.

“They can’t see us,” Miles said, as if reading her mind. “You can do this, Dani.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I know you remember.”

“You were little, like me,” Flora said, “and you sat just here.” She knelt down, peering down to the foyer from between the bannisters. Barely visible from below if someone happened to look up, but from between the bannisters Flora could see everything.

“It was unusually hot that night, the summer insects were buzzing just outside your window,” Miles said, kneeling on the other side of Dani, joining Flora to peer between the bannisters. “You woke up and you went to get a drink of water.”

“That’s when it happened,” Flora said. “The shouting. The shouting is what drew you here, and then—”

Down below the photographer’s lights flashed again, a blinding light through the front doors and just like that Dani remembered another night eighteen years earlier when the doors flew open, the headlights of her father’s car still running in the drive lighting up the foyer as he burst in.

Dani remembered. She remembered ferociously and all at once. The floor swayed beneath her feet. She remembered.

Her father’s voice, angry, loud. Calling for Henry. Screaming for him. Bursting into the foyer. Henry flying in from his office down the hall, confused, trying to calm her father. Dani, eight years old, tiny and unnoticed, sinking down to watch from between the bannisters.

_“You son of a bitch, Henry—you son of a bitch! You’re my best friend! How could you?!”_

_“Shhh! Oliver! Calm down! What are you—”_

_“You helped me look for them, you searched with me—by my side—how could you?!”_

_“Oliver, please! Lower your voice—”_

_“Don’t fucking tell me to lower my voice, I found your belt Henry! You used your own goddamn belt!” He held up Henry’s belt, the silver buckle glinting in the car’s headlights._

_Henry went white, looked like he might be sick. “Where did you find—”_

_“You know where! You know where I found it, you’ve known where they were this whole time—” Oliver, spitting his words like gunfire yet starting to break, anguish in his voice. “I was building Dani’s treehouse on their graves and you knew because you put them there you fucking monster!”_

_“Let me explain—Oliver! I can explain!”_

_“He was ten,” Oliver screamed it, “Miles was ten and you strangled him with your belt—you buried him with the belt still round his neck—all this time they were rotting back there, you threw them away like rubbish and you acted like my best fucking mate—”_

_“It was an accident, Oliver!” Henry was panicking. “I swear to you—Oliver I swear—it was the summer my father bought the Aston—you remember, don’t you remember how much I wanted to drive it? I took the keys, I just wanted to try, a quick joy ride, that’s all I wanted! I was coming back round the bend on the road leading back to the manors—I didn’t mean to Oliver, you have to believe I didn’t mean to hit her—”_

_“Flora?” Oliver gasped her name through his tears._

_“They were walking on the road! To this day I don’t know why I didn’t see them—she didn’t suffer, I swear to you she didn’t suffer, she was gone by the time—”_

_“And Miles?” His anguish was palpable, his tears falling, pouring._

_“He—he saw me, Oliver, he—I panicked! He was screaming at me, telling me I’d killed her, he was going to tell—I was fourteen Oliver, I panicked!”_

_“I’m going to the police. I’m taking my daughter and I’m going to the police—Dani!” Oliver shouted up to the second floor, walking toward the stairs. “Dani wake up!”_

_Dani, eight years old and scared. Eight years old and deciding to be brave. Standing up. Coming to the top of the stairs. Making eye contact with her father. Her father’s eyes softening when he saw her. Raising an arm to reach out for her. Henry coming up behind him with a vase from the foyer table. A loud crash as he brought it down on the back of Oliver’s head._

_Dani, eight years old and watching Henry choke the life from her father. Eight years old and hearing her mother, seeing her burst through the doors, realize what was happening, screaming—trying to run._

_Dani, eight years old and being led back down the hall by two small hands. Eight years old and meeting two ghosts, two memories who she’d meet again eighteen years later._

Dani, twenty-six years old and coming back to herself in the same room in a different universe.

“Are you alright?” The tiny voice beside her asked. Flora, reaching up again for her hand.

Miles looked up from where he was still kneeling. “It’s a dreadful memory. We’re sorry we had to ask it of you. But you needed to remember, you needed to know—”

Dani looked at him. “I saw you—when he was hurting them you were there—you led me away,” Dani said. “You kept me from seeing…from watching…”

“From having him do the same thing to you.” Miles eyes were solemn.

Flora stood, nodding. “He would have, you know. If he’d seen you watching. He would’ve tucked you away in the backseat that night when he put their car in the lake.”

Miles stood. “We couldn’t save ourselves…but we could save you.”

“Danielle! Kiddo—you’re spacing out on me—Danielle!” The photographer shouted from the foyer.

The fog broke and Miles and Flora were gone. The ringing was back in her ears. Henry had killed them. _All of them._

“They’re waiting for you, the ceremony is about to start,” the foyer had emptied and the photographer was eyeing her, “are you alright?”

Henry murdered her parents. Henry killed Miles and Flora. Henry would kill Jamie too, she was sure of it. People were disposable to Henry Wingrave. _Her parents._ He’d killed her parents. In the back of her mind a mantra was blooming. _Get out, get out, get out, get out._

Dani, twenty-six years old and finally saying _enough_.

“Hannah,” she shouted at the photographer, “I need you to find Hannah Grose and tell her—tell her I’m—I’m at Owen’s—” It was the first place she could think of that wasn’t the manor. “Only Hannah—don’t tell anybody else!”

“What?” The photographer was looking increasingly concerned but Dani didn’t have time to explain.

She bolted down the hall, into her room, grabbed the backpack with the envelopes, ripped off her white strappy sandals and stuffed her feet into a pair of boots. Down the stairs, past the perplexed photographer, out into the dazzling midday light. She’d go to Owen’s eventually but first, Jamie’s hut—the keys to her truck were on the hook by the door in the kitchen, the truck was parked nearby.

One county over Peter had said, that had to mean Cheshire—it was the only neighboring county large enough to have a jail. She didn’t have a plan, she didn’t have a clue where in Cheshire the jail was, but she would figure it out. She would go there and she would find a way to keep Jamie safe.

The tulle of the dress caught on the breeze behind her like a tail as her boots crunched down against the crushed stone walk with every sprint.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone come around the corner of the house, appearing suddenly, a man, the photographer she thought, chasing her to clarify, but before she could even process it the man was in front of her and it was Henry, looming and wild.

He grabbed her wrist. “The wedding’s in the _back_ yard, Danielle.”

Her heart was in her throat. She pulled at his fingers, dug her boots into the crushed stone. Struggled with everything in her. Her backpack fell to the ground as she struggled. Henry said nothing, just kept pulling her back toward the manor.

“No,” Dani said, “no, I’m not going, I won’t go, I won’t do this, you don’t _own_ me—”

The smile Henry gave her stopped her struggling, even if only for one chilling moment.

“Poor Miss Taylor,” he said, “she won’t understand what she did to deserve what’s coming to her.”

“Like Miles and Flora? Like my _parents_?” She yelled it into his face, hysterical. “You killed them all—I remember, I couldn’t remember for so long but now I do—you killed Miles and Flora and my dad and my mom and you’re a fucking _monster_ —”

“I certainly can’t imagine what it is you’re talking about,” he said, but Dani saw a muscle in his cheek working. The tension in his brow.

He began dragging her back to the estate in earnest then, ignoring her spitting accusations, her cries, her fingers tearing at his hand. Up the front step, she tripped and Henry held her upright by her wrist like she weighed nothing, like she was a prop, a piece of the set that had gone missing but would soon be put back in place.

Across the empty foyer he dragged her, a look of resolute retribution on his face, unyielding, unfeeling as Dani pulled, scratched and kicked at him. There was a stand there, full of umbrellas and fireplace tools and Dani grabbed for a fire poker, knocking the entire stand to the floor, a great clangor echoing against the tall ceiling as she hit at him with it, desperate blows to any part of him she could reach. Desperate blows that managed only to pull a growl of annoyance from him as he wrenched the poker from her hand and threw it to the floor, never breaking his stride as he dragged her along.

Into the empty sun porch she was forced, where beyond the glass doors she could see the backs of seated guests, waiting and unaware. Edmund was standing at the end of the aisle, hands clasped, somber and resigned with Peter by his side. There was music in the back yard, a violin and a cello, bright notes dancing over one another, a melody light and clean.

Finally Henry released his grip on her, dumped her into one of the porch’s armchairs. She rubbed at her wrist, there’d be marks there tomorrow but it didn’t even matter because this was it, this was how it ended, Dani Clayton, twenty-six years old and captured, made prisoner, bound to something evil.

She looked up at him, barely able to speak through her anger. “Are you going to drag me up the aisle too?”

He loomed over her, leaned down with his hands on the armrests, bracketing her, caging her in, his face so close she could count his pores. “No, Danielle,” his breath was hot and she pressed away from him, molding herself to the back of the chair as he spoke, “you’re going to dry your eyes and stand up tall and walk down that aisle yourself because I _do_ own you, I’ve owned you since the day I decided to keep you.”

The music outside was changing, the violin sliding into the aria that she was meant to walk down the aisle to.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said softly, taking his hand and using his knuckle to turn her chin, force her to look at him. “You’re fighting against this with everything in you, I see that, I see how strong you are. I value strength, Danielle, I do—we don’t have to be enemies. If we can just forget the past—both of us with a clean slate—let’s start over, here and now, what do you say?”

She fixed her eyes on his and glared with every ounce of loathing. “Go fu—“

He stopped her, grabbing her chin in his hand and digging his fingers and thumb into her cheeks, jerking her face up to his own.

“You can’t win, Danielle. You need to give up.” He leaned impossibly closer, growling his next words. “When are you going to just. Give. Up?”

“Not tofuckin’day mate.” The voice came from directly behind Henry and when he turned to look over his shoulder someone swung the fire poker, iron connected with bone and with a resounding _crunch_ Henry crumpled backwards to the floor.

It had happened so quickly and Dani was still trying to catch up—she watched Henry roll onto his back, groaning, blood flowing, positively pouring from beneath his hands cupped around his nose. And then she was looking up at—it made no sense but—Jamie, fire poker in one hand, offering Dani the other. But Dani didn’t take her hand, she just kept staring. Jamie looked real, but so had Miles and Flora.

Henry was coming to his knees, his hair mussed and his suit absolutely ruined with blood. “You broke my nose,” he managed to spit out.

People in the backyard had heard the commotion, several guests were making their way to the glass door.

“You broke my fucking nose,” he said again.

“In the future maybe keep a handkerchief on you while you’re being a dickhead, yeah? Avoid gettin’ blood on the floor. ‘Specially while you have guests.” Jamie grinned maniacally, like throwing those words back at him had been sheer unadulterated joy.

The sunporch door opened, an uncle and several cousins stepped in, gasping, shouting, rushing to Henry’s side.

“Now or never, Poppins,” Jamie’s hand was still outstretched, waiting.

Dani grabbed it. She launched up from the armchair and together they raced from the room, back across the foyer, headed for the open front door.

“You alright?” Jamie asked as they ran.

Dani looked at her, still not believing it. “How are you here?”

But Jamie just grinned and kept running. 

They burst out the front door and Dani stopped short at the scene before her. At least ten black sedans with blinking patrol lights were lined up in the driveway like a parade, a swarm of officers and men in suits and sunglasses were exiting the vehicles, heading toward the manor. And in the midst of it all, standing side by side on the walk like some eleventh-hour cavalry, were Owen, Hannah and Rebecca.

“Grabbed the stuff?” Jamie asked, and Owen held up a duffel bag. “Let’s get movin’ then,” Jamie said, tugging lightly on Dani’s hand.

“Who are those—” Dani’s mind was racing. “Where are we—what are we—”

“Don’t mind them,” Jamie looked over her shoulder at the mass of uniformed men. “I’ll explain everythin’ on the way, yeah?” She winked, shot her a grin and Dani’s adrenaline spiked with the sudden realization that this was real, it was actually happening.

“Got company,” Owen said under his breath, nodding at the side of the manor where a crowd of guests were pouring around the corner from the back yard, likely drawn there by the lights and sirens.

Suddenly Peter Quint was flying out the front door, shouting for someone to call an ambulance, Henry had blacked out. When he caught sight of Jamie and the patrol cars behind her he was suddenly shouting.

“This one, officers!” Peter pointed at Jamie. “She’s the one! She assaulted him, she’s a convicted criminal and she’s trespassing—"

“We’re looking for Peter Quint.” One of the officers, a burly bearded behemoth of a man, took off his sunglasses and peered down at Peter.

“I’m Peter Quint—is this—” Peter glanced at Jamie, glanced over at the crowd, back to the officer. “Sorry, what is this about?”

The man flashed a badge. “Metropolitan Narcotics Unit. We have a warrant to search the property, more specifically the room you’ve been staying in.”

Peter let out a little laugh. “For…for what?”

“Probably for narcotics, Pete.” Jamie tilted her head at him.

An officer put a hand on his arm, holding him there while the other officers walked by them, entering the house.

“But I don’t—” Peter was looking back and forth between them all, “I haven’t done anything,” he was panicking, pointing at Jamie, “ _she’s_ the one who—”

“I’d check his suitcase first,” Viola called to the officers, stepping out from the crowd of guests. “I’d also check under his mattress and in his shoes and inside the blue lamp—there’s a blue lamp on the bedside table—it’s hollow and there’s a little hole at the bottom and chances are you’ll find what you’re looking for in there, too.” She shrugged theatrically. “I’m guessing. Odds are.” She looked over at Rebecca, caught her eye and winked.

“What is happening?” Dani looked at Jamie.

“Quite a bit, but let’s get out before things really go belly up.” She’d been clutching Dani’s entire hand but she shifted, lacing their fingers together. “C’mon—Hannah? We ready?”

On their way to Jamie’s truck Dani bent down to retrieve the backpack she’d dropped earlier. Jamie eyed her curiously.

“Long story,” Dani said.

“Lot of that goin’ round,” Jamie was grinning again and it was contagious, despite the shock and chaos Dani grinned back. She’d never seen Jamie like this, she was practically exuberant.

Owen got into Hannah’s car, Jamie led Dani and Rebecca to her truck and Dani climbed in, Rebecca on one side and Jamie behind the wheel on the other. Both vehicles skirted the edges of the drive avoiding the multitude of parked cars and heading for the open road.

When the manor was behind them Jamie accelerated, flying down the road after Hannah’s sedan. She and Rebecca looked at each other, amazement on their faces.

“Holy shit!” Rebecca shouted, and then Jamie was cheering and laying on the horn as Rebecca stomped her feet and grabbed Dani in a tight hug. “It _worked_!”

Jamie was beaming but she kept glancing at Dani, unsure. Rebecca seemed to catch on to the worried glances and she pulled back, holding Dani at arm’s length.

“Dani?” Rebecca ducked her head to catch her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Dani stared at the road ahead. “It’s like I’m here…” she touched both hands to the truck’s leather seat, “but my mind is still back there.”

Rebecca looked at Jamie. “How’d it go down?”

“Fuckin’ Wingrave had her backed into a chair when I got there, threatenin’ her and the like,” Jamie shook her head and glanced at Dani again. “Are you alright?” She asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Dani looked at her, “I’m still catching up, I think. How did you—” She looked at Rebecca. “You planned this?”

Rebecca grinned like she’d been waiting for Dani to ask. “You know how Calvin couldn’t really do much to help, being licensed in America and all?”

Dani nodded.

“Turns out he just needed the right motivation. When he found out this all boiled down to Peter Quint he damn near grew wings and flew over here to deal with it himself.”

“But—what does—” Dani’s head was spinning from of a day of revelations, “Calvin knows Peter?”

Rebecca was looking at her like she should already know the answer but Dani was having one hell of an hour so she just stared at Rebecca blankly. “Our messy breakup? Peter was the reason for it. Suffice to say Calvin was more than happy to lend a hand. And maybe Henry Wingrave is friends with the local magistrate but Calvin Reynold’s father was appointed to the High Court by the Queen herself, and he was more than willing to aide in our pursuit of justice.”

“That’s—” Dani shook her head, “that’s amazing, Becs—”

“All it took was a quick call to the county jail to clear Jamie and a little tipoff to the Narcotics officers. Owen and Hannah went to pick up Jamie and the Narcotics officers headed to the manor—”

“Round of applause for Viola settin’ that particular stage,” Jamie jumped in.

“Viola—wait,” Dani looked between them, horrified and incredibly impressed, “did she hide drugs in Peter’s room?”

Jamie’s tongue was poking out, a smirk on her face as she drove. “The girl likes to party, and if a few party favors happened to find their way to Quint’s room…”

“It’s karma,” Rebecca said definitively, “for what he did to Jamie.”

Dani straightened in her seat, reached a hand and tilted Jamie’s face towards hers. Jamie was still wearing the sweatpants and tank top she’d been arrested in but somewhere along the way she’d found a green jacket to add to the ensemble. There was an angry looking cut on her top lip and the dark bruises on her face had turned green at the edges.

“They hurt you—” Dani said softly.

“Yeah but you should see what I did to them,” Jamie sent her a quick grin before looking back at the road.

“Really?”

Jamie sighed. “No. Was three on one and I think I actually squawked when they first grabbed me, caught me unaware. All a bit humiliatin’, really. Definitely gonna need some tendin’ to later, feelin’ a bit vulnerable—” She slid her eyes over to Dani, her smirk back in place.

Dani’s cheeks warmed and when she met Jamie’s eyes there was a flash of heat, a promise of later. Dani brushed Jamie’s curls back to get a better look at the bruise on her forehead.

“It was Henry,” Dani said. “The reason they hurt you. He was threatening you in order to control me.”

Jamie was nodding. “Rebecca filled me in.” She pulled a face. “Bit of a psychopath, isn’t he?”

Dani and Rebecca nodded emphatically.

They were passing fields, headed out of Bly, headed deeper into the countryside. Flashes of the day kept coming to Dani. She’d lived a lifetime in a single day.

“There’s a lot I have to tell you guys, Hannah too,” Dani said. “Today was…a lot. Like…” Dani closed her eyes. _He killed my parents._ “A lot.” She shook the thoughts away. “Where are we going?” She opened her eyes as Jamie reached for her hand. 

“Fernwood Hollow,” Jamie said. “Heard of it?”

“No?”

“’S like a motel place—”

Rebecca let out a sudden laugh. “It’s not a _motel_ it’s a resort—”

“There’s a difference?” Jamie looked at Rebecca.

“Yeah like five stars worth,” Rebecca giggled, patting Dani on the knee. “Hannah suggested it, she’s spent a holiday or two there. It’s far enough from the estate, she thinks we can regroup there. Spend a few days helping you figure out next steps.”

Dani nodded. Looked down at her lap. She was still wearing a wedding dress. And a ring.

“I don’t have clothes—” She looked at Rebecca.

“Owen and Hannah grabbed some stuff from the hut,” Jamie said, “plenty of kit to share.” She glanced over, looked Dani up and down. “Not really seein’ the problem with the dress though.”

Dani rolled her eyes at her, smiling despite herself.

They followed Hannah’s car down one country road then another and another. At one point Rebecca turned on the radio, flipping between static and news stations, stopping every now and then when blips of music popped through. Dani felt a tugging on her finger and glanced down. Jamie, eyes still on the road ahead, was playing with Dani’s engagement ring, gently pulling on it, twisting it. Dani looked at her and Jamie glanced back with the slightest quirk of her brow, a subtle upturn at the corner of her mouth. Dani smirked back. Then, without looking away from her, Dani tugged the ring off of her finger. She reached across Rebecca and dropped it into a cupholder, settled back against the seat and smoothed her dress before meeting Jamie’s eyes once more. Raised an eyebrow. _So there._

Jamie’s smile was radiant as she looked back to face the road.

The day was far from over—there were revelations to be shared, mysterious envelopes to open, possibly even homicide detectives to be called. But for the moment, Dani was content to sit between her best friend and her…gardener, while the world passed by outside the window.

It was entirely possible, she realized as a pinprick of hope began to bloom, that the worst of it was finally behind them.


	11. Chapter 11

Fernwood Hollow turned out to be a vast retreat overlooking a massive lake, acres upon acres of hiking trails, golf courses, swimming pools and fire pits set back miles from any main thoroughfare, accessible only by a meandering dirt road.

“How does Hannah know about this place again?” Dani asked Rebecca when they’d finally reached the parking lot. The resort’s main building was just ahead, a grand structure of rough wood and worn iron, a mixture of rustic and chic.

“Not sure,” Rebecca said, retrieving her suitcase from the back of Jamie’s truck. “The plan came together this morning and it was kind of a last minute thing—Owen thought we should have a place to rendezvous and lay low, Hannah said this place would work.”

There were other buildings too, separate from the main one but seemingly interconnected by woodchipped paths. Lanterns flickered here and there. The entire place had a certain warmth to it and Dani had the passing thought that Hannah really could solve anything.

Dani was still surveying the grounds when Jamie stepped up beside her, carrying both her own duffel bag and Dani’s backpack.

“For five stars you’d think they could find a gardener who knows not to plant silverberry next to boxwood,” Jamie shook her head at the foliage lining the walk to the front doors.

“Shall we?” Hannah appeared behind them lugging her own travel case, Owen wearing a backpack was by her side.

The interior of the resort smelled like campfire and evergreen trees. The ceiling was full of interesting angles and exposed wooden beams and at the center of it all, a good thirty feet above the floor, was a chandelier made from an iron wagon wheel that someone had fitted with lights. There was a humungous stone fireplace taking up the entirety of one wall, a fire roaring inside. It was, Dani thought, exactly the kind of place to catch her breath. Unclench her muscles. Maybe even begin to heal.

“Welcome!” The spectacled woman behind the glossed wooden counter said, smiling ear to ear the moment they entered. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Oh—no,” Hannah said, “this little trip was rather spontaneous—”

“Not a problem Ms. Grose,” the woman smiled, typing away on her computer.

Dani and Jamie exchanged a look. _Impressive._ They knew Hannah here.

The woman behind the counter leaned forward, lowering her voice a bit. “And do you and Mr. Sharma want your usual room?”

Everyone’s eyes tripled in size and suddenly Hannah’s face was the same deep maroon as her blouse.

“No—no, separate—separate rooms for all, I think—” Hannah was sputtering, “and perhaps on the second floor, overlooking the hills and the lake,” she turned to Dani, her face still beet red, “it’s a lovely view, truly divine—in the morning when the sun rises there’s a little dip in the hills just across the way that—"

“Hannah love,” Jamie said, “do you think if you just keep talkin’ we’ll magically unhear it?”

Owen burst out laughing. “Hannah Grose, I do believe we’re caught.” He put his arm around her and turned to the woman behind the counter who was blushing herself, clearly aware she’d just outed them. “Michelle,” Owen smiled at the woman, “Hannah and I _will_ take our usual room, and put the rest of this lot far away from us because we won’t want to be disturbed.”

“Owen!” Hannah smacked him. “Honestly.”

Dani smiled at Owen. She _knew_ it. Good for them.

Michelle behind the counter got Owen and Hannah sorted, handed them their keys and then turned to Rebecca.

“Do you have a spa here?” Rebecca asked.

“We do, and for an additional charge you can have a personal masseuse wake you with a hot stone treatment—”

“Sold.” Rebecca handed over a credit card. “Give me a room next to the spa and your most eligible and well-muscled masseuse.” When Rebecca had her room key Michelle tried to hand her card back but Rebecca jerked a thumb in Dani’s direction. “I’m paying for them too.”

“No—" Jamie started.

“Becs,” Dani stepped up to the counter, “you already saved the entire day, you’re not going to pay for—”

“Do you have your wallet?” Rebecca looked at her. “Your license? Cash? _Anything_?”

“Oh.” Dani thought about it. “Shoot. That’s—going to be fun, trying to get all my stuff from—”

“We’ll worry about it later, in the meantime—”

“I’m paying,” Jamie said, taking Rebecca’s credit card from the woman and handing over her own.

Rebecca looked at her. “Are you sure? This place is expensive…”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her. “Woke up and chose elitism today, did we?”

“I mean you called it a motel, so…” Rebecca made a face.

Jamie spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Tryin’ to make a gesture here, will you shut it?”

Rebecca smiled and put her hands up, stepping back.

“Separate rooms?” Michelle asked, looking between Jamie and Dani.

“Oh—um,” Jamie’s brow furrowed, “probably, yeah that’s—cause there’s two of us so yeah, I think,” she touched the curls on her forehead, looking flustered.

Dani was just about to say _if you book yourself a separate room I will literally walk into that lake and drown myself_ when Michelle beat her to the punch.

“We do have a newlywed suite,” she said, seemingly just then noticing Dani’s dress, “it’s a separate cottage down by the lake, very private—”

“That!” Rebecca said loudly, startling everyone. “Yes. That. They’ll take that. That’s what they’ll take.”

It was a log cabin, cozy and secluded. Simple—a singular room save for a closet and bathroom but large enough to have interesting nooks and crannies. There was a cushioned window seat looking out at the water, a bookcase full of boardgames and a gigantic bed tucked into an alcove, piled high with a down blanket and pillows. Dani’s adrenaline spiked at the sight of it. At the thought of an uninterrupted night alone with Jamie. There should’ve been guilt in that thought—the fact that she was hungry for it despite everything the day had burdened her with, but more than anything she felt like it was owed to her. After eighteen years the universe, fate, karma, whatever it was that balanced the scales and silver-lined the clouds, owed her some happiness. It was long overdue. 

Jamie had dumped their bags onto the couch—a rustic piece of furniture made from polished tree branches with evergreen patterned cushions—and was walking up to where Dani was standing in the middle of the room.

“Hi.” Jamie’s hands were in her jacket pocket and she was smiling, almost shyly it seemed.

Dani smiled back. “Hello.”

Jamie reached up and pulled Dani’s hand from where she’d been biting at her nails. She hadn’t even realized she’d been doing it, but Jamie gently pulled the hand away and held it, searching her face.

“Crazy day, yeah?”

Dani nodded. “Bad. But not as bad now.”

Jamie smiled, then stepped back and looked her up and down. Crossed her arms. “I know I should hate the sight of you in this dress, but.” She shook her head. “You have no idea how stunnin’ you are, do you?”

Dani shrugged, bit at her nail again but caught herself this time. “There’s too much makeup. It was a whole thing.”

“Stunnin’.” She stepped closer. “But you’re also stunnin’ in sweatpants, talkin’ to ghosts in my garden.” She stepped closer still. “And when you’re runnin’ in a thunderstorm. And when you’re on the tennis court wearin’ next to nothin’, hopin’ I’ll come by and notice.”

Dani ducked her head, smiling. Her cheeks felt warm.

Jamie brought Dani’s eyes back to her own with a gentle hand to the side of her face. “You’re gorgeous in the mornin’ when you’re wakin’ up beside me. Didn’t get the chance to tell you then, but you are. You’re gorgeous when you laugh. Irresistible when you’re angry. Fuckin’ perfect when you come. And right now?” She stepped even closer. They were just a breath apart. “Right now, when you’ve just run from everythin’ holdin’ you back? Gone and liberated yourself from all that shite? You’re—”

Dani kissed her, leaned forward and captured her lips with a small sigh. Jamie held her face and Dani grabbed her jacket, pulled her in, impossibly close. Jamie’s tongue was soft against her bottom lip and Dani opened for her. Tongue rubbing against tongue, bodies melding together, hands pulling for more as if they weren’t already fused to each other. Jamie slid her mouth down Dani’s jaw, nibbled at a spot on her neck before opening her mouth against her skin, sucking. Light at first and then harder. Dani heard herself moan because _fuck_ it felt amazing, everything Jamie did felt like breathing after years of suffocating. The first touch after a lifetime of solitude. She raked her fingers into Jamie’s hair and pulled, just to get her mouth back, just to be kissing her again. But the noise Jamie made. The devilish grin on her face when Dani had pulled her hair. Dani filed it away for later.

Jamie was kissing her again, unhurried kisses that she’d pull back from to glance at Dani’s lips, study Dani’s face. The third time she pulled back Dani whined and chased after her, pulling her head back with both hands and putting her tongue in Jamie’s mouth before she could move away again.

Their tongues were dueling and suddenly Dani felt a hand trailing down her sternum, following the trail of skin that the dress revealed. Jamie’s hand traced up and down as they kissed and then suddenly her fingertips were brushing over Dani’s breast, her thumb rubbing just underneath. Dani whimpered and let her own hand wander, skirting beneath Jamie’s shirt, fingers rubbing the taut skin beneath. Jamie’s touches grew bolder until she was palming Dani’s breast, finding her hardened nipple and drawing circles on it with her thumb. Dani gasped into Jamie’s mouth and then, because she _wanted_ , she shoved her hand down the front of Jamie’s sweatpants, cupping her through the shorts she found beneath.

Jamie’s breath hitched and she rested her forehead against Dani’s on a sigh as Dani started stroking through the fabric.

“Fuck,” Jamie whispered, moving her hips a little to push herself against Dani’s hand.

Dani watched her eyes flutter shut, watched the crease appear when her eyebrows pulled together. She could watch Jamie like this for a lifetime and not grow tired of it.

Jamie was wet beneath her hand and her hips were speeding up. She let out a little noise like she couldn’t quite get enough and then shoved her own hand down to join Dani’s—cupped Dani’s hand against herself harder. Thrust into it.

“Fuck,” she said again. But then she was pulling her hand out, pulling Dani’s hand out along with it. She moved her mouth to Dani’s ear, nipped it and whispered, “Hold that thought. Gimme ten minutes.”

When she pulled back Dani was sure there was a look of pure panic on her face because _what the fuck—_

“Why? Why do you do this? First with the—on the swing and the tree and again now and _why_?"

Jamie’s mouth pulled into a lopsided smile and she draped her arms over Dani’s shoulders. “Been in a cell since Thursday. Feelin’ a bit disgustin’ actually and was kind of hopin’ I could shower before anythin’ else,” she bit her lip, “cause once I get you in there,” she nodded past Dani’s shoulder at the bed, “I plan on keepin’ you there for days.”

A surge of electricity throbbed in Dani’s core.

“Alright with you?” Jamie was searching her eyes but all Dani could do was nod dumbly. _Days._ She could wait ten minutes if the payoff was _days_.

“Good,” Jamie chuckled, kissed her softly one more time and pulled away, pointing to the duffel bag on the couch. “There’s clothes in there if you feel like changin’. Or just leave the dress on and I’ll take care of it once I’m out.” She flashed a grin and disappeared into the bathroom.

A second later Dani smiled at Jamie’s muffled _holy shit this shower’s the size of the greenhouse,_ followed a moment later by the sound of running water. Jamie’s cell phone vibrated on the table by the mini kitchen. Dani looked. _Rebecca._ There was something immensely heartwarming about the fact that at some point, during their grandiose rescue mission, they’d traded numbers and begun acting like old friends.

“Rebecca’s calling you, I’m going to answer,” Dani shouted, unsure if Jamie could even hear her. She pressed the green button. “Becs?”

“Your phone is still at the manor too, isn’t it?”

“Judy has it.”

“I just called, no one answered.”

“Well. It’s probably a little chaotic over there at the moment,” Dani said, not even trying to hide the smile in her voice.

“Undoubtedly,” there was a smile in Rebecca’s voice too. “So, don’t kill me, but Hannah said that before you guys disappear for however long it takes to have twelve years worth of orgasms we should have a meeting, all of us.”

“Hannah said that.”

“Essentially.”

Dani lowered her voice even though she could hear Jamie humming in the shower, not listening in the least. “It can’t wait til tomorrow?”

“You’re the one who said you had a lot to tell us. Hannah’s freaking out because this morning you told her you’d learned something about your parents’ deaths? And she wants to talk to you about the letters she found in Henry’s office.”

Dani sighed. “Fine. An hour. I’ll give you guys an hour, and then you’re going to give us a thousand years uninterrupted or the next person who stops us is going to—”

“Suffer your sapphic wrath, I get it, you’re horny, but considering the magnitude of what transpired today maybe you can tell your vagina to sit down for a sec—we need to have a plan in case the Wingraves track us down. If they follow us here or something.”

“Fair.” Dani sighed. “You think they will?”

“Not tonight. Henry’s probably in surgery as we speak. But in a day or so who knows? They’re lunatics.”

“Okay. Like I said. One hour.”

“So generous.”

“Where are we meeting?”

“There’s a restaurant in the main building, Owen says their cedar plank grilled salmon is worth dying for.”

“Mmm, hope so, because I might actually combust and take you all with me if—”

“What’s that?” Rebecca asked. “Can’t hear you over the echo of your empty threats. See you in fifteen.”

Dani sighed and hung up the phone. Jamie was out of the shower, still humming as she dried off. She’d left the bathroom door open and Dani could see her shadow moving around. This was torture. She rummaged through the duffel bag and found a pair of black skinny jeans and a Blondie tee shirt. The jeans fit well enough and she rolled the sleeves of the shirt a few times, knotted it at the waist to make it more fitted. More her. 

When she looked up Jamie was watching her from the bathroom doorway, her hair a mess of damp curls and a towel barely hanging around her middle.

“I like you in my clothes,” Jamie said, stepping toward her, “but I was rather hopin’ I’d find you waitin’ in that massive bed over—what’s wrong?” She seemed to notice Dani’s pained expression.

“Hannah’s called a team meeting.”

“Tell her to bugger off,” Jamie said, taking Dani’s hand and tugging her in the direction of the bed.

“She’s insisting. I think if we just get it out of the way they’ll leave us alone for…a while.”

It was Jamie’s turn to look like she was in pain. “I _really_ rather not, Poppins. Have quite the growin’ list of things I’d like to do to you right. Here.” She was still tugging her toward the bed.

“One hour.” Dani swallowed. “I told them we’d give them an hour and then they’re not allowed to bother us again. For a thousand years.”

Jamie considered it. “A thousand?”

“Should I have asked for longer?”

“A thousand years will probably take the edge off. I can live with a thousand.”

Dani sent her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” Jamie leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet but then Dani deepened it because she was hungry, starving even. When Dani grabbed a handful of towel to pull Jamie closer Jamie broke free and stepped back, laughing. “Not gonna hold up our end of the bargain if you keep doin’ that.”

So Dani distracted herself with the bookcase of boardgames while Jamie changed into jeans and a plaid yellow flannel, and then together they walked back to the main building, hand in hand.

They were the only people in the resort’s restaurant, probably because it was an odd hour—just after 4, too early for dinner, but none of them had eaten much that day so they ordered a feast. They were tucked into a circular booth towards the back, a row of windows behind them giving a grand view of the lake and beyond.

Once their waiter had taken their orders and collected their menus Hannah leaned forward and sighed. “Alright then. Here we are. Let’s talk, shall we?” It was so like Hannah to cut to the chase.

“First? Um,” Dani rubbed at a spot on the smooth tabletop, feeling quite suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of emotion. “Thank you. All of you.” She looked at each and every one of them. “I don’t know what I would’ve done. Don’t know what I would do without you guys.”

Owen was sitting just to her right and he covered her hand on the table with his. Then Hannah reached her hand in and Rebecca leaned across the table to add her own. Jamie was already holding her other hand under the table but she winked when Dani glanced at her.

“So,” Dani said with a big sigh, “I guess I should fill you all in.”

And she did. How she’d avoided the memories, repressed them for eighteen years until that day. From reading Frank’s journal to finally remembering the truth of the night her parents died. How they’d come to get Dani from the Wingrave manor after accidentally stumbling on Miles’ and Flora’s remains by the treehouse. Hannah clutched the cross around her neck at that point. Rebecca gasped. Jamie squeezed her hand under the table.

She told them about Henry and his threats, much of which they already knew, but as she filled in the details she saw Owen shake his head, saw Hannah’s eyes grow even darker. The only thing she didn’t mention was being visited by Miles and Flora. Jamie knew, and maybe that was enough.

Their dinners had arrived at some point during her story but the plates sat there untouched as everyone listened. Kept sitting in silence even when Dani had finished talking. 

Finally Owen cleared his throat. Lifted his glass. “To Dani Clayton, the strongest of the lot.”

The others raised their glasses in return and everyone sipped, but Hannah kept hers raised a moment longer, looking at Dani when she said, “And may she never have to carry such a burden alone, ever again.”

It wasn’t a hope or a wish that Hannah had voiced, Dani realized when she saw the look on Hannah’s face. It was an order. A command. An expectation. In the future, Dani was to lean on them. _How dare you say they’re the only family you have,_ Rebecca had said to her that day in the car. How dare she indeed.

“So you reckon we go straight to the Chief Inspector with this?” Jamie was asking the others. “If the local detectives were keen on coverin’ it up maybe best to cut the middle man, yeah?”

“Likely the best way to go about it,” Owen was agreeing.

"What are the statutes of limitation like here?” Rebecca asked, already typing away on her phone to find the answer.

“Can we not—” Dani looked down. “I want to report it. I’m _going_ to report it. All of it. I want justice for them. But I need a day. A few days.”

“Course, Poppins. Been one hell of a week. In your own time, then.” Jamie was looking at her the way she sometimes did, with an intensity as if she was trying to see beneath her skin, trying to understand not just her words but to hear the symphony of reasoning behind them.

Everyone picked at their food then, taking breaks to chat intermittently about the resort and how they could spend the next few days. Owen wanted to hike, Hannah wanted to read. Rebecca wanted to spend every day in the spa. They agreed to let each other know when they ventured outdoors, keep in touch if they saw anything strange. Just in case the Wingraves came looking for Dani.

When dinner was done and they were sitting there waiting for their waiter, Dani pulled out the envelopes Hannah had given her. Placed them on the table.

“I haven’t looked yet,” she said, “do you want to tell me what they are before I do?”

Hannah’s smile was full of warmth and affection. “They were sitting in a file labeled _Clayton._ I only read the first one—the letter from your father to Henry. The rest are addressed to you. It wasn’t my place to look.”

Dani slid the rubber band from the envelopes. There were four in total, three with her name on them and one with Henry’s. She opened the envelope marked _Henry_ , pulled out a large piece of stationary folded in thirds. Flattened it against the table and read. Silently. She’d share it in time.

_Henry,_

_Well, here it is. We said we’d do this but it still feels strange, trading last wills and testaments while we’re in our prime. But I suppose one never knows, isn’t that right? I read yours the other night and think it’s a capital idea—if anything happens to you and Judy, God forbid, Eleanor and I will welcome Edmund as if he were our own. He would want for nothing but all the same we would protect the trust fund you’ve set up for him, ensure he had access to it once he came of age._

_For our part, Eleanor and I discussed it at length and we’d like to ask the same of you. If fate takes us both, we ask that you take Danielle. Raise her as if she were yours. Nurture her kind spirit above all else—it’s a beautiful spark that’s uniquely her, she was just born good, and Eleanor and I can’t imagine a better quality to invest in._

_As for inheritance, I hope you’ll allow me some slight eccentricities, you know full well that Eleanor and I feel differently than you and Judy when it comes to trust funds and the like. We went to the bank today and planned it out—if Eleanor and I should pass unexpectedly the entirety of our wealth and assets will be automatically funneled into three separate accounts, available to Dani when and only when she accomplishes certain expectations. Eleanor and I have written Dani three letters in which we’ve outlined our requirements for her. When she meets those requirements she’ll be able to bring the necessary documentation to the bank and will have access to what we’ve left for her._

_I’m sure you think me foolish or fanciful, leaving my daughter with a veritable treasure hunt rather than just a sensible sum without conditions. But Henry, best friends though we’ve always been, we are fundamentally different, and I hope you’ll respect me on this if the unthinkable happens._

_Once I questioned your decision to give Edmund an ever-increasing yearly allowance when he was still too young to even understand the value, the purpose of it. You told me you wanted him to have everything he wants in the world so that he might live well. If Dani ever questions why we did not do the same, our answer is this: we want her to seek everything she wants in the world so that she might live._

_In the meantime mate, what do you say we just stay alive? Christ, this was a strange letter to write. And hopefully one that will never need see the light of day once sealed._

_Cheers,_

_Ollie_

***

They walked back to the cottage in silence. Dani had offered multiple times to let Jamie read the letter but Jamie had declined, saying she’d wait until Dani had read all of them and had a chance to navigate the emotion of it all before reading any of it herself.

Before leaving the restaurant Rebecca had read the letter. She’d been right about the incentive trust after all. Three separate incentive trusts, apparently.

“That’s why he needed you to marry Edmund,” Rebecca had said, folding the letter back up and handing it back to Dani. “Once your last name was Wingrave he could funnel the money into his account through Edmund. And you would’ve been none the wiser.”

“Still seems like a lot of trouble to go to for money when he’s already rich,” Dani had said.

“But we don’t know how much is in those accounts, it might be more than he could bear to give up.” Rebecca said. “If he killed your parents to save his own neck are you really surprised he’d bully you into a marriage for money?”

“He’s not as rich as you might think,” Hannah had suddenly offered. “You hear things, blending into the woodwork the way I do in that house. He was struggling. The mining industry is declining and it seems after your father passed he made a number of poor decisions with the company.”

Rebecca had nodded then looked at Dani with a wince and a shrug. “People do a lot worse for a lot less, you know.”

When they were back inside the cottage Jamie set to work building a fire in the fireplace, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at Dani. For her part Dani was content to watch her, still in a bit of a daze from the letter. It made sense, the letter. It explained so much about Henry’s motives. And that part had settled something in her—provided answers to questions so she could finally make peace with the _why_. But there was still something in her that remained unsettled. The three unopened envelopes were heavy in her hand.

She’d spaced out, staring absently at the lake beyond the windows. The setting sun. She startled when suddenly Jamie was there, stepping into her line of vision.

“You alright?” She asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dani nodded, “yeah, I think so. But I think—” She looked down at the envelopes. “I think I need to read these. Before.” _Before I can move forward._

Jamie was nodding. “Reckon you do.” She tugged Dani’s hand, bringing her around to the sit on the couch, right in front of the roaring fire.

Dani sat and looked up, waiting for Jamie to join her. But Jamie shook her head.

“I’m gonna take a walk. Give you some time.”

“But—”

“Just a walk. And then I’ll be back.”

Dani watched her go, then sat and watched the flames for a moment. The fire was warm and she felt like she could nod off there, the day being what it’d been. But she wanted a clear head for this, so she walked to the sliding door at the back of the cabin. There was a back deck stretching the length of the cottage, two wooden rocking chairs set out facing the incredible vista of trees against dark blue water and deep green hills. On one side of the deck there was a short dock leading out across the water and Dani made her way to the very end, sat down cross legged on the planks and set the envelopes out before her. Across the lake the sun was settling into a dip in the hills, making it appear as though the trees were the only thing keeping it in the sky. Needles of orange light pricked the horizon, reflected and glimmering on the lake’s little swells. The letters were numbered, so Dani took a breath and opened up the first.

_Danielle,_

_It is our resolute plan and loudest prayer that you will never read these words. This letter is a safety net beneath a ledge we do not intend to step out onto, never mind fall from. Our greatest privilege in life is to be your parents, and it is an honor we do not wish to have rescinded anytime soon. But life is often unpredictable, and it is a dark truth that if worst case scenarios cannot be avoided they may at the very least be softened with foresight and preparation. Our intent is to prepare for the worst, then seal these letters away and let them lay forgotten as we watch you grow._

_Danielle if you are reading this, if the worst does one day happen, then you must know how deeply and wholly sorry we are. It was undoubtedly a great force indeed that managed to take us from you, and you must believe that we fought with our last breath to stay. Know that our last thoughts were unquestionably of you and that we love you still, and hope that you feel that love emanating as you make your way through this unruly world._

_You know that we’ve always striven to give you a childhood and a life full of wonder and simplicity—despite our good fortune, despite our beautiful home, our goal has always been to ensure that you were never coddled or overindulged. Those things can ruin a child, and how terrible a sin it would be for us to be gifted with a kind and selfless daughter only to then teach her greed. All this is to say that in the unspeakable event of our unexpected deaths, we’ve established an arrangement with the Wingrave family. They will keep these letters safe until a time when you may need them. There is, of course, money—quite a bit of it really. An inheritance that will one day be yours, no. matter the circumstances or timing of our death. If we live to see you grow up as we pray we will, we will have these conversations in person and you can ask any questions you’d like, voice any thoughts you might have._

_But if life does not unfold that way, these letters explain the three expectations we have of you. Three requirements for you to meet, and in turn, your meeting them will unlock each portion of the inheritance. Three things, Danielle, that we ask you to seek, and this is the first:_

_Seek knowledge. Knowledge is a privilege not all are able to possess and education is a gift not all are allowed access to. Our greatest hope for your mind is that you exercise it, expand it, use it to make a difference in the world. We ask that you seek out higher education in whatever form best suits your interests—be it a trade school or the Ivy Leagues. And whether you find yourself in seminary or culinary school, studying astrophysics or cosmetology, do your best, ask questions when you don’t know the answers and always remember that it is more important to be curious than it is to be right._

_When you’ve completed your degree, whatever that might look like, let us be the first to congratulate you and tell you how proud we are. When you’re ready, bring your diploma to the bank and the first portion of the inheritance is yours._

_Love forever, M &D_

All this time. All this time her parents’ words had been waiting for her, tucked away in a drawer at the Wingrave estate.

She wasn’t sad, she realized after a moment. She’d been sure she would be. Certain she’d cry, feel a desperate ache for her parents when she first began reading. But no, she couldn’t possibly be sad because she’d done it, this first task they’d asked of her, without even knowing how important it had been to them. No one had forced her to do well at Radley, but she’d gotten High Honors every term. She’d gone to Harvard because education and knowledge was important to _her_ , and to hear it was a value that had been inherited was more validation than Dani had felt in eighteen years.

She reached for the second letter. Started tearing it open. Then she stopped. Three letters. Three chances for her parents to talk to her again. The money didn’t matter, it never had. But their words were priceless and finite. She’d save the other letters. Savor them. Make them last.

Dani was snuggled back inside by the fire by the time Jamie finally wandered back in. She’d taken the fluffy duvet from the bed and plopped down onto the couch with it, huddled inside it like a cave while she watched the flames. Jamie came and kneeled on the floor in front of her, looked up at her.

“Hi there.”

“Hi.” Dani smiled at her.

“Did you read em?” She snuck a hand into the pile of duvet, feeling around until she found Dani’s leg. Rested her hand there, stroking back and forth across Dani’s leg with her thumb.

“One of them.” Dani reached down, laced her fingers between Jamie’s. “I’m going to save the others. Something to look forward to.”

Jamie smiled. “Was good then? The letter?”

Dani nodded, smiled back. “Yeah. It was.” She leaned forward until they were only an inch apart. “But maybe we can talk about it another time.”

“Course, yeah, whatever you want.” Jamie looked at her, then slid her eyes past to the bookcase on the far side of the room. “Could play a game maybe? Been told I’m relentless with the checkerboard but I’ll go easy on—”

Dani kissed her. Deepened the kiss immediately, poured all of her hunger into it. “Don’t want to play checkers,” she whispered against Jamie’s mouth.

“Dani—” When Jamie pulled back her pupils were blown. “This was supposed to be your weddin’ night and now it’s…something else entirely. With everything that’s happened—”

Dani kissed her again. Hungrier, needier, leaving no question as to her intent.

Jaime pulled back again with the slightest shake of her head. “Christ Poppins. I’m tryin’ to be decent here but—”

“Stop.” Dani leaned in close, eye to eye. “Stop being decent. You _are_ decent. You’re incredible. I don’t need decent anymore tonight.” Their lips were so close and they were breathing each other’s air, ragged and hot.

Jamie swallowed. Looked at Dani’s lips. “Are you sure?”

Dani was nodding before she’d even finished asking. “Yes.”

“Thank fuck,” Jamie smiled as she pulled Dani’s mouth back to hers.

Jamie took the duvet and spread it out in front of the fire. Offered Dani a hand, helped her down onto the makeshift bed. When she joined her Dani practically tackled her, kissing her neck and her jaw and mouth while Jamie giggled and kissed back at whatever was in reach.

Dani was straddling her when she sat back, suddenly solemn. Nervous.

“I don’t—I’ve never…”

Jamie smiled. “Kinda figured.”

“Will you…show me?” She reached out, toyed with a button on Jamie’s shirt before letting her eyes flick back to hers. “Teach me how?”

Jaime’s head fell back with a laugh that turned into a groan. “Christ, Poppins. Do you hear yourself? You have to know what that fuckin’ does to me.”

“Really?” Dani knew. She’d hoped, at least. But she kept an innocent look plastered on her face.

“Yes really! Jesus, with your lips and your big eyes and your face, I can’t even look at you right now, I need a minute—”

Dani giggled, she couldn’t help it. Jaime’s head was still back, her eyes were closed like she was trying to collect herself. And in that moment Dani decided she was done waiting. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it across the floor. Jaime looked up at the movement and their eyes met.

Jaime sat up slowly, reached out a hand to stroke up Dani’s hip, up to her ribcage and back down again. Slowly, reverently, taking several deep breaths as she did. 

“Dani,” her eyes flicked up and then back down again. “This—I’ve wanted this, wanted you for fuckin’ ever. But now—” Jamie let out a frustrated sigh as she searched for the words. “Christ, let me get this out—I don’t wanna fuck you—”

Dani’s panic must have been obvious because Jamie was immediately touching her hip, shaking her head.

“That’s not—I mean it wouldn’t be _that_. Or it would, rather, but it’d be more. To me.” Jamie’s brow creased and she glanced at Dani again. “Do you know what I mean?”

Dani nodded slowly. “Me too. It would be more to me too. Just so you know.”

“What’s that mean for us, you reckon?” Jamie squinted at her, smiling cautiously.

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

“I don’t either. Wager we’ve got time to figure it out now though.” She reached out for Dani’s finger, where there’d been a ring only hours earlier. “One day at a time then?”

Something bloomed in Dani’s chest. “One day at a time.”

Dani leaned in, Jamie met her halfway and then they were kissing. And it wasn’t frantic, it wasn’t uncontrolled, because they finally had time and they both felt the security of it. No need to rush. Every reason to take their time. To learn each other. To make it memorable and perfect after waiting for so damn long.

After long minutes of kissing, tongue tangling languidly against tongue, Jamie kissed her way down Dani’s neck, eased her back onto the duvet and gently took the reigns. She mouthed her way down to Dani’s breasts, kissed across them over Dani’s bra. Eased the straps from Dani’s shoulders, looked up at her questioningly.

“Can I?”

Dani rolled up so Jamie could reach the clasp behind her, unhook it and pull it down. Dani helped her, tossed the bra aside and laid back. Jamie stayed kneeling, just looking at Dani. Taking in the sight of her, naked from the waist up. She crawled up the length of her, kissing her stomach, her ribcage, underneath her breast.

Jamie glanced up. “You’re perfect,” she whispered, sucking a nipple into her mouth.

Dani raked her fingers up the back of Jamie’s neck, up into her hair to clutch at her head. She let out a moan and Jamie pulled back, reached down to toy with the button of Dani’s jeans.

“Off—take them off—” Dani said before Jamie could even ask. She unhooked the button herself before Jamie took over, sliding the zipper and tugging the jeans down Dani’s legs.

When Dani was wearing nothing but lace underwear she pulled at Jamie’s flannel. “You too—I want to see you—can you—” She unhooked Jamie’s jeans while Jamie tore off her button-up and a moment later Jamie was wearing nothing but a pair of tight black briefs.

Dani rolled up again, this time to run her hand across Jamie’s stomach, wanting to feel the taut muscles there. Jamie knelt between Dani’s spread legs, letting Dani touch her, learn her. When Dani reached up to brush a hand over Jamie’s breast Jamie’s head tipped back on a sigh, then tilted forward again when Dani rolled her nipple between her fingers. Jamie ducked down to capture Dani’s lips again, hands sliding to cradle Dani’s jaw. The next time she pulled back her fingers had snuck down to tuck into the waistband of Dani’s underwear, looking up for permission.

“This alright?”

Dani nodded, laying back down and lifting her hips.

Jamie slowly pulled them down, sending Dani a half smile, all heat and full of intent and _fuck_ if it didn’t make Dani throb. It had never been like this before, not ever. And she could’ve cried with relief because _my God_ it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t broken, there’d just been a missing piece.

When she was laid bare Jamie settled between her legs and leaned in without breaking eye contact, flattening her tongue against Dani’s center, licking a slow stripe up to her clit and sucking, just once.

“Holy fuck.” Dani’s head tipped back and her hand flew to her mouth as she started to laugh. “This is—I want to do this forever. I never want to not be doing this.” When she peeked back down Jamie was wearing a devilish grin. With her eyes still on Dani, Jamie stroked her finger along Dani’s folds, teasing her entrance. Then she pushed into her and Dani broke eye contact, shutting her eyes and moaning because _fuck_ Jamie was _inside_ of her.

Jamie pumped her finger in and out, slowly, like she was testing Dani, trying to see what she liked. It was amazing, just one solitary finger was fucking bliss but Dani couldn’t quite remember a time when she’d been more turned on and she was feeling greedy. She started to move her hips in counter-rhythm to Jamie’s pumping and Jamie got the message.

“More?”

“Yeah—”

And then there was a second finger, followed by _oh fuck_ Jamie’s mouth, licking steady circles around her clit but not quite touching it. Dani could hear herself whimpering, senseless desperate noises. Every time she glanced down Jamie was watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, studying her, learning her, and it was the hottest thing Dani had ever seen.

Suddenly Jamie pushed her fingers deep into Dani and flicked her tongue directly over her clit, back and forth before returning to licking circles around its perimeter. The brief change in method made Dani seize up and grab at Jamie’s head, holding her to herself.

Jamie smirked up at her and did it again, flicking her clit once, twice with her tongue and Dani groaned out a noise that bordered on primal.

“Fuck you’re hot,” Jamie whispered, before doing it again. Dani plastered a hand over her mouth, locking in the embarrassing litany of desperate sounds that was threatening to spill out.

“Don’t,” Jamie whispered, using her free hand to pull Dani’s hand away, “wanna hear you.”

She dove in then, it was the only way describe the way Jamie knelt up, used her free hand on Dani’s thigh to spread her even wider before she started fucking her in earnest, curling her fingers on every thrust and leaning down to bathe Dani’s clit with her tongue.

It wasn’t going to take long, Dani could already feel herself clenching, every sensation driving her closer, but she didn’t want it to be over yet, she kind of wanted to keep doing it forever. So she bit her cheek and fisted her hands in the duvet, focused all her energy on not coming. Which was tricky, when Jamie’s unbelievable mouth was doing everything possible to _make_ her come.

Jamie seemed to notice that Dani’s focus was suddenly elsewhere and she asked if she was okay.

“Fine—yeah,” Dani breathed, chancing a glance down her body at Jamie’s perfect face which did not fucking help.

Jamie instantly looked concerned. “Dani? What’d I do? Did I—”

Dani shook her head. “No, no it’s good, it’s too good—I—” She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to—to be done yet. I’m—I’m trying not to be.” When she opened her eyes Jamie had the smuggest look Dani had ever seen on her before.

“Poppins,” she arched an eyebrow, “we have all fuckin’ night. We have _days._ Don’t rightly plan on stoppin’ at one, personally. Was thinkin’ we could go for a world record.”

Dani let out a small laugh. “So it’s okay if I…?”

“Come?” Jamie’s mouth pulled into a half smile. “Would really love it if you did, actually. Then we could get started on the second and third.”

She started moving her fingers again, softly at first and then harder when she added her mouth, sucking and rolling her tongue against Dani’s clit. It built again, and this time Dani didn’t try to stop it. She could feel it coming, like cresting a gigantic hill.

Then it was like every year of wanting, every moment of fantasizing, every hidden want and repressed desire was leeched from every fiber within her, all of it rushing down in a cascade of pure pleasure that swelled as it raced to her core, culminated in her clit and then Dani was coming, erupting, fucking up into Jamie’s mouth, pouring herself into Jamie and watching Jamie take it all, meeting her eyes even as Dani reached down to grab her hair in a frantic haze of _oh fuck yes_ , a haze that wasn’t fading because she just kept coming, her head and torso curling up with the force of it, clutching Jamie’s head to herself, noises that she’d never made before wrenching their way free from her throat.

Even when she finally started to return to earth her body kept on twitching, her legs still shaking, and Jamie didn’t pull away, she kept her fingers inside and her mouth against Dani, flattened her tongue, licked softly as Dani came down.

Dani let her head fall back against the pillow. Started giggling. Put a hand over her mouth when the giggles became full on laughter. She felt Jamie move up her body a little, looked down to see her resting her chin on her arm across her stomach.

“I made you laugh.” Jamie arched an eyebrow. “Gotta admit laughter was not the goal.”

“You made me—” Dani searched for the words, “I’ve never—ever—like that before and _how_? How is it _that_ good?” Dani reached down and practically hauled her back up, attacking her mouth in messy kisses.

“How good are we talkin’?” Jamie was smiling through the kisses, clearly pleased with herself and not trying to hide it in the least.

Dani groaned. “So good. Too good.”

“Yeah?” Jamie was perched over her on all fours, leaning down to kiss her and then moving to straddle Dani’s outstretched left leg.

Dani was nodding, still reaching for Jamie’s face, desperate for more kissing. Jamie leaned down and gave her what she wanted, kissing her slowly, letting Dani lick into her mouth, practically sucking on Jamie’s tongue. She’d just come harder than she’d known was physically possible and yet somehow she wasn’t done. She realized she was moving her hips again when Jamie smiled and put a hand on her waist, helping to push Dani’s wetness against her leg.

Jamie bent farther to whisper in her ear. “Do you have any idea what seein’ you come like that did to me?” She took Dani’s hand and put it against herself.

Dani stroked her fingers through the soaking mess she found there and thrust her own heat against Jamie’s leg.

“Fuck,” Jamie’s voice was rough and she was staring down at Dani’s hand between her legs. She knelt up then, gently moved Dani’s right leg up so it was bent at the knee before moving closer, slotting her wet heat against Dani’s.

She held on to Dani’s bent knee and pushed into her, watching Dani closely as if trying to read her, wanting to be sure it was okay. 

Dani was on fire again. Jamie’s mouth had been a fucking epiphany but this—this was fucking _everything._ The way Jamie’s eyes rolled back when her slick heat rubbed over Dani’s clit. The way she kept making the tiniest adjustments so her own clit was dragging against Dani’s center, slipping against her, making them both moan. Then a perfectly aligned thrust had them both gasping, had Jamie grabbing her knee tighter, grinding into her harder.

Dani swallowed, staring down to where their bodies were joined. “Is this—do people—this is really a thing?”

Jamie stopped moving and looked at her, surprised and amused all at once. “Scissorin’?”

Dani scrunched her nose. “It’s weird when you say it out loud.”

“It’s kinda weird regardless but yeah, it’s really a thing and it feels fuckin’ gorgeous when you do it right. ‘S not for every time maybe, but once in a while…” her voice got soft and husky, “and tonight I wanted to feel you against me.”

“Oh.” A feverish nod. “Okay.”

“Alright?”

“Mhmm.”

Jamie’s hips started up again, slowly at first. She used her thumb to adjust where they were connected and the next push of her hips was _magic._

Dani’s mouth opened on a breath. “Oh my God—”

“Yeah?”

Dani nodded frantically, lifting her pelvis up, desperate to feel that feeling again.

Jamie smirked. “Told you. Feels amazin’.”

Jamie thrust again, hitting just right and Dani spread her legs wider, pushing up into Jamie’s thrusts and that small change in angle was all it took for their clits to bump against each other and _holy fuck_ Dani wanted more of that. Jamie froze when it happened, like she couldn’t quite believe it. Her pupils were blown and her breaths were ragged as she pushed into her again, slower this time, more purposeful. Their clits met and Jamie ground herself down, pushed hard into Dani and their eyes met and then that was fucking it, they lost all semblance of control and started fucking each other desperately, like they were trying to fuse themselves together permanently, meeting thrust for thrust and grinding and Jamie had that focused crease in her forehead as she stared down her body and watched herself fucking Dani and Dani was pretty sure in the future she’d come just from seeing Jamie’s forehead furrow.

“So fuckin’ good,” Jamie husked, almost to herself, “feels so fuckin’ good, fuck—”

Dani’s hands went to Jamie’s hips to pull her down even harder and Jamie was grasping Dani’s leg with one hand and snaking her other hand between them, thrusting two fingers into Dani without preamble.

Dani threw her head back on a cry. “Fuck—”

“Yeah? Tell me—” Jamie’s eyes were black.

“Feels good—your fingers—”

“Fuck, Dani—"

The noises, sliding against each other while being fucked by Jamie’s fingers, Dani ground out a groan and pulled on Jamie’s hips and wondered if it was normal to get this fucking turned on, if it happened to everyone. Jamie started curling her fingers, pulling against that place inside of her and Dani was going to come again so she said so.

“Oh fuck—” Jamie was frantically switching between watching herself fuck Dani and watching Dani’s face, like the combination of the two was more than she could handle.

Dani was getting close, it was all too much—feeling Jamie against her, Jamie’s fingers inside of her, Jamie looking at her like this was all she’d ever wanted.

Dani met her eyes right as Jamie ground down, putting all her weight into it and Dani thrust up with a broken cry, clenching, coming on Jamie’s fingers, coming even harder when she realized Jamie was fucking her through it, holding her in a vice grip so she could still drag her clit against Dani’s as she came.

When Dani could breathe again she realized Jamie’s eyes were still glazed, her breathing still labored. Still wanting. She seemed pretty intent on rubbing herself off against Dani, she’d barely slowed down when Dani had come, she’d just watched with her mouth open, still thrusting.

It was Dani’s turn to watch her now, and it was everything—the way she was making little noises with every push of her hips, the way she was unabashedly chasing her own pleasure. Her thrusts were becoming frantic and her noises more and more mindless, but Dani wanted more, Dani wanted to be even closer when she came.

“I want to taste you,” Dani whispered. “Jamie—” She said her name because it seemed like she hadn’t heard, she was so far gone.

Jamie didn’t look up. “Can’t—too fuckin’ close—”

But Dani wasn’t going to settle for anything less, so she grabbed Jamie’s hand and bit the soft flesh between her thumb and forefinger, lightly at first but harder when Jamie didn’t stop moving against her. She bit down hard enough for Jamie to wince, look at Dani with a question in her eyes. Dani took the opportunity to slide out from under her, push her down on the duvet. Jamie was smiling then, spreading her legs for Dani to sink between.

Dani glanced up at her once, giving over her last remaining thread of insecurity. “You’ll tell me if I’m not…?”

Jamie let out a little laugh. “Won’t hafta do much, I’m—”

“But tell me if you don’t like something,” Dani smirked, “or if you do.”

And then Dani was tasting her, opening her mouth against her and it was the best thing she’d ever done, feeling Jamie move against her, hearing Jamie’s drawn out _ohhh_ as she watched Dani taste her for the first time.

Jamie was close, she’d said as much but Dani could feel it in the shake of her legs, in the wetness that was flooding her mouth. She tried flattening her tongue the way Jamie had, long licks and steady pressure. Jamie was watching her every move, breathing like she’d just run a marathon but Dani wanted to drive her mad, so she tried something else. Stiffening her tongue, swirling it around Jamie’s clit.

Jamie’s breath hitched and the furrow in her brow was back. Dani smiled inwardly and did it again, swirling her tongue, batting Jamie’s clit with it.

“Yeah, just like that. Fuck—” Jamie curled up a bit, reached down and brushed Dani’s hair back from her face. “So good, right there, just like that—yeah, good girl—”

Some synapse in Dani’s mind exploded like a fireworks finale. _Holy shit_. That did something to her. She filed it away for later. She would happily devote a lifetime to figuring out exactly what it took to get Jamie to say _that_ to her again. She moved a hand up, teased Jamie’s entrance with two fingers and looked up at her for permission. Jamie was so far gone but she gave a hint of a nod, her eyes darkening further as she watched Dani slide her fingers inside.

Jamie slid a hand into Dani’s hair and started moving her hips in rhythm against Dani’s mouth. She was making little noises with every thrust, and every time her hips pushed against Dani’s mouth Dani would batter her clit with a pointed tongue.

“Gonna—”

Dani smiled against her.

“Look at me—” Jamie brushed her thumb on Dani’s cheek and Dani looked up at her without losing the rhythm they’d found. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, yeah look at me—" Jamie’s hips sped up, her eyebrows pulled together, her noises were raspy and frantic. “Fuck—wanna see you—when I—I’m gonna—"

Jamie didn’t take her eyes off of Dani’s when she came, she let Dani watch her the entire time and it was the hottest fucking thing Dani had ever experienced—the way Jamie’s jaw slid open, the way her entire body shook, the broken off raspy cry, the way she frantically fucked Dani’s mouth the whole way through.

But as the haze started to clear Dani thought it hadn’t just been hot, it had also been incredible. It was the most vulnerable she’d ever been allowed to see a person. Jamie was letting her in, and Dani never wanted to forget the magnitude of that.

Later, much later, Jamie threw on her flannel and her high tops and went out on the deck to smoke while Dani went to add a log to the fire. Almost as soon as she’d gone outside Jamie reappeared, sticking her head in through the sliding door, jaw dropped and a look of absolute astonishment on her face.

“Poppins—there’s a fuckin’ _hot tub_ out here! Have you seen this? Come see this—” And then she disappeared again, leaving the slider open for Dani to follow.

Dani put the Blondie tee shirt back on, unknotted it so it hung to her thighs and went outside to find Jamie hauling up the cover to a large circular hot tub built right into the floor of the deck, overlooking the lake below.

“There’s colored lights and stuff,” she said, sounding impressed. When she’d gotten the cover off halfway her jaw dropped again. “There’re _cupholders_! So you can drink while you’re in there?” She phrased it like a question, looking at Dani for an answer.

"Mmhmmm…” Dani smiled, affectionately amused by her excitement.

Jamie was already unlacing her high tops, then she was sticking a foot in.

“You reckon we’re allowed to use it?” She looked up at Dani. “How do you make it bubble? On telly they always bubble, like."

A realization dawned in Dani and it made her heart swell. “Is this—have you never been in a hot tub before?”

Jamie shrugged. “Took baths when I was little.”

“Okay, we’re ordering champagne from the restaurant tonight and hanging out in there until we’re boiled.”

And then Dani was racing to find a phone, the number for the resort’s restaurant, as Jamie readied the hot tub, pressing random buttons and cursing when it made a grinding noise, trying another one and letting out a victorious shout when the bubbles began.

It was going to be a good night, Dani thought, ear to the phone and watching through the slider as Jamie tested the water with her foot again, slipping and falling and squealing and catching herself nearly in time but not quite fast enough to save her other shoe, then turning and sending Dani a wide sheepish grin through the glass.

A very good night. The first of many.


	12. Chapter 12

Of all the scenarios that had plagued Dani’s anxious mind in the days leading up to the wedding, never once had she imagined—never _could_ she have imagined—that her wedding night would be spent naked in a hot tub with Jamie Taylor, taking swigs of champagne straight from the bottle they were passing back and forth.

Every lull, every pause in conversation, Dani’s mind would flash with thoughts of _I’m free_ and _we’re spending the night in a private cottage_ and _oh my god we had sex,_ but inevitably they’d be followed up with a taunting flash of _too good to be true usually means it’s not_. All things considered, however, she was putting up a valiant effort to ban that particular thought, as well as all thoughts of filing police reports and dealing with the Wingrave fallout. She was naked in a hot tub with Jamie Taylor and for the moment there wasn’t a single thing more important. 

“Tell me somethin’,” Jamie said, arms outstretched along the curved rim of the jacuzzi, legs straight and floating to the top every now and then, “when we were kids how come you never talked to me?”

Dani took a swig and thought about it. “Shy, I guess.”

“Bullshit.”

“I was!” She leaned forward to pass the bottle across the hot tub and Jamie took it, shaking her head and smirking as she tipped it to her mouth. Dani watched her swallow, watching as the muscles beneath the smooth line of her throat moved, a tendon on the side of her neck appearing and disappearing with each swig. _God._ Everything she did was hot.

Jamie was watching her too, maybe waiting for more of an answer.

“I don’t know, maybe I was just,” Dani waved a hand before letting it plop into the water, “a little afraid of you.”

“ _Afraid_ of me?”

Dani reached for the bottle Jamie was offering. “You were intense, it was a little intimidating, I mean you acted like you were in charge of the grounds by the time we were seven—”

“I was, I’ll have you know.”

“Well there you go. That confidence was—” She searched for the word.

“Off puttin’?”

“No—no, I kind of liked it actually, but from a distance. I admired it from a distance but was scared to get too close.” She tipped the bottle back, drinking the last of it. “You yelled at Edmund all the time for picking flowers or walking across newly seeded grass.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to yell at me.”

Jamie was grinning. “Wouldn’t have.”

Dani rolled her eyes and let her legs float up, toes surfacing near Jamie’s thighs. “I bet you were just waiting for the chance, hoping you’d catch me violating a flower bed or something—”

“That’s where you’re wrong. See, _I_ ” Jamie grabbed Dani’s ankle and gave her a gentle tug, “was also afraid of _you_.”

“Yeah sure,” Dani let out a laugh on a quiet breath. “Ignorant rich kid suffering from chronic loneliness and severe anxiety. Must’ve been terrifying. Terrifyingly pathetic—”

“Angelically intriguin’ and a little bit sad, that’s what you were. Fancied you a princess, trapped in that great house. Wanted to slay your dragons,” she tipped her head, “namely Edmund, if I’m bein’ honest. But always keepin’ far away.” Jamie looked down at her hands, played with the foam on the water. “’S like the sun. Can’t get too close. Too fuckin’ radiant.”

Dani just looked at her. There was so much bubbling inside of her, words that weren’t meant to be said after an entire bottle of champagne, so she swallowed them down for another time and just stared. Smiled softly when Jamie looked up, unspoken words filling the space between them.

A quiet beat passed, both of them smiling and looking away.

Then Jamie was squinting an eye at her. “What would that look like?”

“Hmm?”

“You, violatin’ a flower bed?”

Dani raised an eyebrow. “It would be indecent, I assure you.”

“Well I wouldn’t yell,” Jamie sighed deeply, “but I would hafta punish you. Can’t have indecency round my flowers.”

“Understandable,” Dani smirked. “Hey—do you remember when Edmund ruined Frank’s rosebush?”

Jamie was nodding vigorously. “Bloody right I do.”

“You gave him a black eye.”

“Could hit him again now just thinkin’ about it.”

Dani laughed and then a silent moment passed, Dani watching as Jamie’s head tipped back to look at the stars.

“Okay here’s a question,” Dani said, feeling bold, “that night. When we were fifteen. Why’d you kiss me?”

Jamie’s jaw dropped indignantly. “Did no such thing! _You_ kissed _me._ ”

Dani felt her lips twitch. “I might’ve.”

“Then why,” Jamie sat straight and leaned forward, “did you run?”

Jamie was teasing, Dani knew, but it felt like the time to be honest. “I wish I hadn’t.”

The sly look Jamie had been giving her faded. “Looked for you afterward, you know.”

"You did?”

Jamie nodded. “You disappeared.”

“Well I just—it freaked me out, it felt too—I don’t know, big? Maybe?”

Jamie nodded again.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered. 

“I’m not,” Jamie said. “Gave me somethin’ to look forward to. Seein’ you again.”

Dani leaned forward and propelled herself the several feet it took to be face to face with Jamie. She grabbed the rim of the hot tub on either side of Jamie’s head and anchored a knee on either side of Jamie’s thighs, straddling her.

Jamie’s hands went to cup her ass, to steady her, but she kept them there even after Dani sank down onto her lap, tipped Jamie’s face up and brushed a kiss over her lips before licking into her mouth.

Jamie tasted like chlorine and champagne and she made a happy little noise when Dani deepened the kiss. Her hands tightened on Dani’s ass, squeezing and releasing and grabbing all over again.

Jamie pulled back and looked up at her. “You ever…” she arched an eyebrow, “in a hot tub?”

Dani shook her head slowly. “Never.”

“’S that right?” Jamie said with a little smile. Her right hand had migrated from Dani’s ass and was stroking higher and higher up the inside of her thigh underwater. “Girl like you, probably far too respectable to do somethin’ like that where someone,” her fingers reached the apex of Dani’s thighs, “anyone, really,” she inched them towards Dani’s center, “could happen on by.”

“Mmm,” Dani nodded, her noise of agreement bordering on a noise of something else. “Far too respectable.”

“Right. And see, I respect that you’re respectable,” Jamie was spreading Dani open with her thumb and fingers, dragging her index finger across her center, teasing her entrance. “Wouldn’t want to corrupt that.”

“Pretty sure I’m,” Dani took a shuddering breath, “uncorruptable.”

“ _Uncorruptable_ sounds to me a bit like a challenge,” Jamie plunged her finger into Dani’s heat and Dani couldn’t keep her jaw from sliding open, her eyes from rolling back, even if only for a split second before she regained her composure, intent on keeping control.

But then Jamie added a second finger and began slowly pumping in and out, curling them when they were buried to the hilt and then dragging them out again, and Dani decided control was overrated.

Jamie’s other hand went to her jaw, pulling her down for a kiss as Dani started rocking on her fingers, pressing down on them. Even this, just fingers and skin, it was better than anything Dani thought was possible. She could hear herself making little noises against Jamie’s mouth, hear Jamie’s own breathy gasp when she felt Dani’s hips getting involved.

Dani was still feeling bold—bolder than she’d ever felt before, which was undoubtedly why she didn’t hesitate to reach down to Jamie’s hand, uncurl one of her other fingers, silently beg for Jamie to add a third inside of her.

Jamie obliged with a slick smile that quickly faded into arousal when Dani adjusted to the sweet stretch and started rocking her hips again. Dani rested her forehead against Jamie’s shoulder, louder noises falling from her because she was _so full_ of Jamie and she couldn’t decide which was better: the thought of it or the actual feeling. Jamie was dropping light kisses on her neck and shoulder, the only part of her she could reach.

Dani lifted her head to Jamie’s, rested there, forehead to forehead, and it occurred to her that the best part in all of it was the way Jamie hadn’t stopped looking at her all evening like she was in awe. Mesmerized that they were finally there, finally together in every possible way. It was staggering to be on the receiving end of that look. And yet, there was a lot of responsibility in it, because maybe Jamie had been looking up from her bedroom window thinking she saw a princess in a castle but it hadn’t been the truth. The truth was that on bad days she couldn’t stop biting her nails, even after she’d drawn blood. The truth was that she couldn’t cook because she’d never had to, and wasn’t actually all that keen to learn. The truth was that she could get moody and need space, drift off and spend entire days not ever really being present. The truth was she didn’t know how to be with someone by choice, completely separate from obligation and expectation, and the truth was she was afraid she wouldn’t be very good at it.

“What’re you thinkin’?” Jamie whispered, still moving inside her.

Dani had shut her eyes at some point but she opened them, and any other time it might’ve been comical, trying to have a conversation when their eyes were an inch apart, but there’d been concern in Jamie’s voice and she was waiting for an answer.

Dani slid a hand around the back of her neck, just to hold her. “I’m—you should know now so that you’re—just so you’re aware. I’m not perfect.”

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” Her hand stilled and then her fingers were gently sliding out. “Thank God you told me now, Clayton. No hard feelins’ though,” she gave Dani’s arm a light punch with a closed fist, “we can still be friends, yeah?”

“Jamie I’m serious,” Dani looked at her before blinking away, staring past her.

“Hey,” Jamie turned Dani’s face back to hers with a finger on her chin. “Perfect’s borin’. Not interested in perfect.”

“You say that now.”

“’Cause it’s true now. And it’ll be true then, whenever your annoyin’ little habits start rearin’ their heads.”

“I have anxiety. Crippling, sometimes.”

“I have a temper. Loud, sometimes.”

“I’m messy.”

“I’m obsessive compulsive about my socks.”

“I’ve never been with someone I wanted to be with before. What if I’m not good at it?”

“What if you _are_?”

That was…a good point, actually. Dani hadn’t really considered the other side of it.

“We said one day at a time, yeah?” Jamie asked.

Dani nodded.

“So why the existential dread?”

“Just warning you. So you’re not disappointed.”

Jamie smiled like Dani had just underlined the point without realizing it. “Disappointed isn’t even in the word bank when it comes to you. You think a bit of untidiness is likely to put me off?” She curled her lip. “Could probably make a hobby of buryin’ orphans alive and I’d write it off as a quirk.”

“Good to know how high that ceiling goes.”

Jamie laughed and held her fist in front of Dani, pinky finger raised. “One day at a time, imperfections and all?”

Dani wrapped her pinky finger around Jamie’s. “Imperfections and all.”

Jamie nodded, just once. “Excellent. Now then—”

“One last question—”

“Go on.”

“Socks?”

“I like them to match. I have three of every pair and I color code them in the drawer, lights to darks, different colors for different days—it’s a whole system. And if one goes missin’ in the wash I either bin the whole set or put it aside til I can order more—”

“Okay do _you_ bury people alive? Because this is serial killer talk.”

“If I do,” Jamie shrugged, “just agreed to embrace my imperfections, so. Can’t take it back now.”

“Fair enough. I won’t touch your socks.”

“Probably best you don’t.”

Dani was doing her best to keep a serious face but it was slipping, her mouth sliding into a smile that Jamie mirrored instantly. And just like that Dani was ready to get back to what they’d been doing before.

“Okay.” She gave the slightest wiggle of her hips

Jamie quirked a brow. “Okay what?”

“You may continue.”

“Continue…?”

Dani tried to say it with her eyes but Jamie just squinted and shook her head. Dani pursed her lips, trying to decide if Jamie was being purposefully obtuse. Finally Dani settled on reaching down and dragging Jamie’s hand back where she wanted it.

Jamie stroked her lightly before cocking her head. “Still not sure what is it you’re lookin’ for specifically.”

Dani softened a glare with a slight smile. “Bet you can guess.”

“Wish you would tell me.” She was still stroking, but every so lightly. Driving Dani mad with the _almostness_ of it.

Dani leaned in to her ear, whispered on a breath, “Fuck me please.”

There was a victorious glint in Jamie’s eyes that quickly turned to heat when she slid two fingers deep into Dani, curling them and making her cry out while her other hand went to Dani’s hip, encouraging her to grind down as she started to thrust.

It was all still so new, being touched by Jamie, being free to do this with someone she actually _wanted_. And even though she’d known the truth of herself for years, her body’s reaction—the physical confirmation of the fact that Dani was, in fact, incredibly gay—was exhilarating. It was making her downright giddy, like finally finding the right key for a lock she’d been agonizing over for a quarter century.

Jamie’s free hand slid up Dani’s stomach, over her breast and rested at her neck as she sped up the rhythm of her fingers, water churching all around them.

Dani bucked into her, the pressure building deep inside of her. Jamie added a third finger before Dani could ask and again the stretch of it was almost too much and yet not quite enough. She reached a hand down alongside Jamie’s and started rubbing tiny circles over her clit.

“Fuck,” Jamie was looking down at the surface of the water where Dani’s hand had disappeared, then looking at Dani like it was actual agony, not being able to watch her touch herself. 

“I did this once,” Dani said, voice unsteady, stilling her hips but still grinding down into each thrust. “While I was thinking about you—”

“Yeah?” Jamie’s voice was on the edge of a groan and Dani nodded frantically. “What’d you think about?”

“Y-you.”

Dani would’ve fallen forward if it hadn’t been for Jamie’s hand by her throat as Jamie’s fingers took on a relentless ferocity, hammering into her.

“Doin’ what?”

Dani let out a high pitched whine, her fingers felt so good. She tried to focus. “In the green house—bent me over a table—” Dani sped up the circles on her clit, pushing herself into her own hand, “reached around from behind—put your fingers inside me—”

Jamie’s mouth opened on a whispered _fuck_ and she started slamming her fingers into Dani, curling when they were buried to the hilt, hitting and stroking against somewhere deep inside, a delicious spot that Dani hadn’t known existed, and it was bound to send her over the edge any minute.

“Feels good—” She whined Jamie’s name and grabbed her shoulder, her other hand still busy at her clit.

“Want you to feel good—" Her voice was strained, like she was using every ounce of energy to fuck Dani.

“Jamie—” With a bitten off sob she started to come, and there was something about how full of Jamie she was, it was like for the first time her orgasm was coming from _inside_ instead of from her clit, her entire body clenching around Jamie’s fingers.

“Fuck,” Jamie thrust her fingers in one last time when she realized Dani was coming, holding her fingers as deep as they could go. “Fuck Dani—I can _feel_ it—I can feel you—" She watched Dani in awe for a moment and then Dani, still shuddering with little shivers, leaned forward to capture her lips in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue.

The force of her climax had set something off in Dani and she was suddenly frantic with the need for more. To touch Jamie, to make her feel just as good.

“You now—” Dani was reaching down, pulling at Jamie’s hips.

Jamie pulled her head back down for another kiss, nipping her lower lip. “Where?”

Dani glanced around, finally patting the deck. “Up here.”

Jamie hauled herself out of the hot tub, feet resting on the seat underwater, and Dani moved her knees apart so she could fit between.

The balmy day had disappeared with the setting sun and a chilly night had taken its place. Jamie shivered, droplets running down her torso and hanging from the tips of her hair. Her nipples were stiff peaks and as Dani leaned in, running her fingers up her thighs, she found gooseflesh. Jamie shivered again, her teeth knocking together.

“Didn’t think this through,” Dani said, taking handfuls of hot water and dousing her thighs, “just come back in, you’re freezing,"

Jamie shrugged on a shiver. “Warm me up.”

Dani sent her a smile and spread Jamie’s legs wider so she could kneel between them on the seat of the hot tub. She ran a hand up Jamie’s thigh then gently stroked a finger through the wetness between her legs. When she looked up Jamie was biting her lip, watching her closely. It was so new but Dani was already learning things—like how her fingers made Jamie moan but her mouth made Jamie’s eyes go black and pulled the sweetest noises from her.

She was learning that licking a slow line up Jamie’s center made Jamie’s head tip back on a sigh. How teasing her tongue around the perimeter of Jamie’s clit could knit Jamie’s brow with frustration and send her hand into Dani’s hair. How raking her nails up Jamie’s thighs at the same time she finally sucked Jamie’s clit into her mouth could make her jaw slide open, utter filth spilling out.

She was learning that she loved the taste of Jamie, slick and slightly tangy. Finding that she couldn’t keep herself quiet when she was doing this, finding that it turned her on just as much to give as to receive. Especially when Jamie wasn’t afraid to look right at her, watch her, let every sensation play across her face for Dani to see.

“Christ,” Jamie said, arching her hips to meet Dani’s mouth.

Dani was also learning that Jamie kept a leash on herself during sex. There were times when she’d tighten her fist in Dani’s hair, only to catch herself and let go, run a gentle hand over Dani’s head to smooth her hair back in place. Or when she’d get close to coming, nonsensical words falling unbidden from her lips, she’d always stop herself from saying too much. As if she didn’t want to scare Dani with the ferocity of it all, so she’d bite down on her cheek or tongue to stay silent. Dani had plans to fix that at some point. To let her know she didn’t want Jamie to hold back a single fucking thing.

Dani started swirling a pointed tongue around Jamie’s clit, making Jamie groan. Suddenly she had the instinctive idea to use her thumbs to spread Jamie wider, exposing Jamie’s clit even more. Once she had, she ducked back down, sucking Jamie into her mouth and bobbing her head gently.

“Fuck—” Jamie practically shouted it into the night. “Oh my god—there’s no way— _fuck_ Dani—no way today was your first time with a girl—”

Dani just grinned around her clit and kept going.

“Less they had classes on this at Harvard—Christ Poppins, keep at it like that and I’m gonna come—”

“Want that,” Dani lifted off to whisper. “Want to taste it.”

“Dani—” It was like those words punched all the air out of Jamie and she had to take several deep, shuddering breaths to recover as she watched Dani’s head bobbing on her clit. “Not gonna last much—” Her words dissolved on a wrenching moan and she started thrusting her hips in rhythm to meet Dani’s mouth. “Fuck—” This time she whispered it, and kept whispering it as she seized up, gently holding Dani’s head against herself as she came.

Jamie laid back flat against the deck as she started to come down, massaging Dani’s scalp with her fingertips. She mumbled something, but Dani couldn’t hear her over the hot tub’s jets.

“What’d you say?”

Only Jamie’s head lifted up. “This is the best night of my life.”

Eventually Jamie slid back into the water, and for a while they sat in comfortable quiet. Then Jamie dropped a kiss on Dani’s head and spoke into her hair.

“Could we sleep in here, you think?”

Dani lifted her head from where she’d been resting it on Jamie’s shoulder. “In the hot tub?”

Jamie wrinkled her nose. “No?”

Dani smothered a laugh and shook her head. “Probably not, pretty sure people have died doing that. From the heat.”

“Oh.” A beat passed. “How long til that happens? Reckon we’ve got a few more hours?”

“You,” Dani said, “are a hot tub whore. And I’m cutting you off.” She stood up, reaching for the stack of towels they’d piled nearby on the deck. 

“Fine,” Jamie mumbled, standing and catching the towel Dani tossed her. “But tomorrow can we—”

“As soon as we wake up, if you want. Breakfast in the hot tub. Lunch in the hot tub. All day, hot tub.” She turned around to smile at Jamie and found her standing there, clutching the towel tightly around herself while her teeth chattered around a grin.

“I l-like the hot t-tub.”

Dani kissed her nose. “I know.”

It started as an idea—Dani had noticed how crystal clear the sky was as they’d been tugging the cover back over the jacuzzi and ten minutes later they were snuggled between the duvet and a pile of blankets at the end of the dock, staring up at the stars.

It was like someone had tipped over a glass full of diamonds, scattering them across the black expanse above.

“See the ones over there?” Dani pointed. “The bright ones that kind of look like a bear?”

“Just look like stars to me.”

“But if you were to connect those to the ones below them, like draw a line from there to there so it’s kind of like a body with legs—”

“Still just seein’ stars, Poppins.”

“Humor me.”

"Oh, you mean _that_ bear!”

“Thank you. It’s Ursa Major—you know, like the Big Dipper?”

“Sure,” Jamie’s smile was in her voice.

“There’s a bunch of myths about it.”

“Gonna tell me one?”

“Not if you’re going to make fun of me.”

Jamie turned to her, theatrically affronted. “Clayton, I’d _never._ ”

“You were about to, I could hear it in your voice,” Dani arched an eyebrow and Jamie smirked before lifting her face back to the sky.

“Teach me about the Ursula bear,” Jamie said.

“It’s _Ursa_ Major but I feel like you know that and you’re fucking with me.”

Jamie was suppressing a laugh, Dani could tell because she was snuggled tight against her.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dani said with an exasperated sigh, “according to Greek mythology, Ursa Major used to be the beautiful Callisto, who had a son named Arcus with Zeus even though he was already married to Hera.”

Jamie _tsked_ and Dani made a noise of agreement.

“So Hera was pissed off for obvious reasons, and Zeus figured he had to protect Callisto and Arcus from her crazy rage fest so he turned them into bears and picked them up by their tails and hurled them into the sky.”

Dani’s head was on Jamie’s chest but she craned it up to peek at her. Jamie’s eyes were narrowed at the sky, an amused look on her face.

“Hang on a tick,” Jamie said. “He made bears out of his girlfriend and his kid and then he chucked them at the sky?”

“Yup.”

“I have questions.”

“Okay.”

“How’d he turn them into bears?”

Dani shrugged. “He’s Zeus.”

“Why bears?”

“So they could protect themselves if Hera came after them?”

“Then why the sky?”

“So he could always see them,” Dani decided on the spot without a clue as to whether it was true or not.

“’S a beautiful story.”

“Liar.”

“Yup.”

Dani shifted her head to look at a different section of sky. “Oh and that one is Cancer,” she pointed at the crab constellation spread over the dark hill in the distance. “Hera sent a crab to kill Heracles—”

“Hera’s a bit mental, sounds like.”

“And Heracles kicked the crab into the sky, and—"

“A giant crab or a regular one?”

“What?”

“The size of the crab. Was it big? Just tryin’ to get a visual here, cause this story is either terrifyin’ or hilarious.”

“Which do you prefer?”

Jamie made a thoughtful hum. “Regular size crab. ‘S funnier.”

“Then it was a regular sized crab.”

Jamie grinned, and extracted her hand from the blankets, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “See that? Know which one that is?”

Dani didn’t.

“Hortus Magnus, it’s called,” Jamie said.

“Great Garden?” Dani glanced up at her again.

“Know your Latin, do you?” Jamie grinned and hugged her closer with the arm she had wrapped around her shoulders. “So all those stars there are part of the Hortus Magnus constellation, or like you said—”

"The Great Garden—”

“Right. And the myth tells the story of a lonely gardener who slaves away every day to make the most spectacular garden in all the land, hopin’ that one day the beautiful goddess she fancies might notice her.”

“There were lesbians in Greek mythology?”

“The Greeks practically _invented_ lesbianism, honestly Poppins what rot did they waste your mind on at those posh schools?”

Dani giggled.

“So,” Jamie said, “as I was sayin’, every day she slaves away to make a garden for her goddess, but the thing is, she’s not the only one tryin’ to woo the goddess—”

“Uh oh—”

“Exactly. Every night the jealous god,” a beat passed, “Mundos, is his name, comes down from the heavens to destroy the garden so she has to start from trampled dirt again every mornin’—”

“You hesitated.” Dani lifted up so she could look down at her.

“What?”

“When you were talking about the jealous god you hesitated. Before saying his name.”

Jamie frowned and shook her head like she couldn’t possibly know what Dani was talking about.

Dani squinted at her. “What’s the goddess’ name?”

“Daniella.” To Jamie’s credit she didn’t so much as crack a smile.

Dani’s smile, however, was wide enough to cramp her cheek muscles. “You’re making this up.”

“S a very famous myth Poppins, bit embarassin’ for you that you’ve never heard it.”

Dani closed her mouth around her smile and lay her head back down on Jamie’s chest, lacing her fingers through Jamie’s. “Keep going.”

“So the gardener is gettin’ discouraged but she doesn’t quit, keeps hopin’ Daniella will come by durin’ the day before Mundos has a chance to come be a bloody menace and massacre her flowers. And then one mornin’ Daniella _does_ come by, but it’s early and the gardener has only just begun to clear the mess of trampled petals. The gardener figures she’s blown her only chance to impress Daniella.”

“But?”

“ _But,_ turns out, the goddess has been watchin’ the whole time. Seein’ how dedicated the gardener is, what a fuckin’ deviant Mundos is, all of it. And in the end the goddess falls in love with the gardener not because of her garden, but because of her resilient spirit. Also her looks. The gardener is obscenely attractive, don’t know if I mentioned.”

Dani was smiling into Jamie’s chest. She sat up to kiss her, stopping a few inches from her lips. “How’d the garden end up in the sky?”

Jamie looked at her with a creased brow.

“Zeus threw the bears, Heracles kicked the crab. What happened to the garden?”

She thought for a moment. “It floated there. The goddess and gardener went up with it. They were too full of happiness to keep their feet on solid earth.”

Dani snorted, smiling despite herself as a moment passed, both of them scanning the sky above.

“Wanna know something?” Dani asked.

“About you?”

Dani nodded.

"Everythin’.”

“I didn’t actually watch Edmund destroy that rosebush. When we were kids. I knew what he was doing obviously, but I wasn’t watching him. I was watching you. And I remember it so well. You were shocked at first, I remember your mouth falling open. I watched you go from shocked to devastated—like seeing the flowers hurt was causing you actual heartache.”

“Well yeah—not easy growin’ a rosebush that big.”

“And then I watched you get angry. You sucked in a breath you didn’t let out. Your cheeks did the thing they do when you’re thinking about something—yeah, like that—and your fist clenched. I think that was when I realized what you were going to do. And when you hit him and he ran off crying you looked at me once—just once—your fists still clenched, and you gave me this nod, this little nod, almost imperceptible, but even at seven I knew what it meant. You were hitting him for the roses but also for me, all his spoiled antics, you were doing it in solidarity with me because you could and I couldn’t. And then you turned on your heel and walked away, casual as anything, knowing full well he was going to tell on you, that you’d get in trouble, and not caring in the least.”

“Bit of a cheeky bastard by the sound of it, wasn’t I?”

“Still might be.”

Jaime let out a soft laugh.

“You saw me,” Dani said with a contented sigh. “Even then, you saw me.”

Suddenly Jamie was sliding out from under Dani’s head, easing Dani down on the duvet before moving over her, tugging the blankets over them like a tent. Jamie bent down, kissing Dani’s forehead, her cheeks, her nose and her lips.

This time when they moved together it was different. Slower. Still full of heat and want and need and breathless sighs but there was something new there too. With every touch of lips and tongue and teeth to flesh it was like a silent message was being passed between them, a conversation written across skin like a tattoo.

And when they came they came together, forehead to forehead, breath breathing breath, fingers desperate between legs, lips and tongues meeting in the moments after, still hungry for each other even after the fire began to fade.

*** 

It was nearing noon the following day when a knock on the cottage door came at the tail end of a heated game of Candyland.

Jamie, having been sent all the way back to the Peppermint Forest for the third time was scowling, albeit good-naturedly, at Dani, who was edging closer to the finish line.

“No skill in this rot, you know. Just luck.”

“Not bitter over a children’s game, are we Miss Taylor?” Dani started moving her character in slow motion toward the last square on the board, humming the _Rocky_ theme.

“Just think if you’re gonna gloat you should know it’s pure luck.” She leaned back in her chair, pulling up a leg to rest her ankle across her knee before pointing at Dani. “Chess. Now there’s a game of skill.”

Dani crossed the finish line and grinned. “I was in chess club at Radley so…bring it.”

Jamie poked her tongue in her cheek, nodding in thought. “Firstly, well done, you’re a Candyland Master,” she gestured subserviently, “and second, you’re on. Grab the board, I’ll clean up this lot.” She all too eagerly began throwing Candyland game pieces back into the box. 

That was when the knock came. Dani was halfway to the bookcase full of boardgames and the sound halted her in her tracks. She spun around and looked at Jamie, who was looking at the door, a mixture of confusion and apprehension on her face.

“Expectin’ someone?” Jamie glanced at her.

Dani shook her head. “A thousand years, remember?”

“Stay there,” Jamie pushed herself up, “I’ll send ‘em packin’.”

 _Stay there in case it’s the Wingraves with a loaded gun_ is what she’d really meant, Dani could hear it in her tone.

Jamie pulled the door open and from her vantage point Dani could see Owen on the other side, looking somber and strange.

“What’s this then?” Jamie asked.

“Is Dani here?” Hannah asked, just out of view.

“She’s here but she doesn’t need this right now, what the fuck are you thinkin’?”

Sure, they’d promised a thousand years uninterrupted but _Jesus_ Jamie was being rude, so Dani rushed to the door to deescalate the situation and found herself face to face with Edmund, standing there flanked by Owen and Hannah.

He looked haggard, there was no other word for it. Dark circles under his eyes, unwashed hair, unkempt clothes. The shadows of a beard growing in.

“He came alone,” Hannah said softly, “and he isn’t here to cause trouble.”

“Thought it was best if we walked over here with him,” Owen said. “He was determined to see you Dani, one way or another.”

“How did you find us?” Dani asked, because if Edmund had found them so could his family.

“Been checking at every hotel within a hundred miles,” Edmund said, staring at the ground. “Saw Jamie’s truck in the lot.”

“Fuck,” Jamie muttered.

“I just want to talk to you.” He finally looked Dani in the eye.

Dani swallowed. He looked so broken. “Alright.” She sighed deeply. “Okay. We can talk.” She nodded at Hannah and Owen. “It’s okay.”

Hannah and Owen left him there at Dani’s urging, there was no need to stick around. Edmund wasn’t dangerous, especially now. He was just…sad. They settled into chairs at the table, the Candyland box still sitting out.

Jamie was standing nearby, arms crossed leaning back against a beam, looking at Edmund like she had him in her crosshairs and it would only take one wrong move.

Edmund’s eyes slid over to Jamie a few times before he leaned toward Dani. “Is she going to—”

“Stay? Yeah,” Jamie said sharply. “I’m stayin’.”

“Not here to cause trouble,” Edmund muttered quietly.

Dani stood, walked over to Jamie and uncrossed her arms for her. She leaned in and kissed her softly, slowly, in plain view of Edmund. It took a second, but finally Jamie kissed her back.

“I don’t trust him,” she whispered against Dani’s lips.

“But I do.” Dani pulled back, ducking to catch her eyes. “And it’s my choice. My decision to talk to him. He’s not dangerous, Jamie.”

Jamie sent a final glare over Dani’s shoulder before dragging her eyes back to Dani’s. “You want me to step out?”

Dani gave her a small smile. “Maybe just for a sec.”

Jamie nodded, pushing off the beam, arms crossed again. “I’ll be on the deck,” she said, opening the back slider. “Right outside, case I’m needed,” she said over her shoulder, sending Edmund a pointed look before stepping out.

Dani tried to hide a smile by looking at the floor but Edmund caught it.

“So you two are…?”

“Happy,” Dani said. “I mean it’s new—like, brand new, obviously—but. I’m happy with her.”

Edmund was nodding. “Good.” He tilted his head, looking away. “Not _that_ new though.”

“Meaning?”

“I used to notice her looking at you when we were teenagers.” He shrugged. “I didn’t like it. Made me uneasy. Now I know my concern wasn’t unfounded.”

“Are you—you sound _jealous_ , but I know that’s not possible because we specifically agreed that neither of us wanted to get married—”

“I _know_ Dani,” he let out a frustrated breath, “but how would you feel? I mean the whole time we were together you were lying to me about who you were—”

“I was in denial, even with myself,” she said. “And I didn’t—Jamie and I didn’t _do_ anything…until after. After you and I were done.” _Because Jamie has more honor and self-control than I do,_ she decided not to say.

Edmund nodded slowly, eyes focused on the tabletop.

“Did you really come here to hash out me being gay?” She shook her head at him. “Because there’s a whole lot of other—”

“Of course not,” he grumbled, “I came here because everything’s shot to hell—my entire life, it’s all—” He waved a hand through the air. “Like smoke. Just, gone.”

Dani sat quietly, waiting for him to continue, and after a moment he did.

“My dad’s in the hospital. Has to get another surgery. He’s already had two. They practically had to fish pieces of cartilage out of his brain. So cheers to your girlfriend for that fucked up shit.” He glanced up at her but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction and he went on. “My mom is comatose. Pretty sure one of the aunts is doing a bang up job as her nursemaid, keeping a steady supply of Valium in her bloodstream. Oh! Speaking of drugs, Peter’s in prison. Though I suspect you already knew that.”

“He should be. After what he did to Jamie? It was fair play.”

“Really, Dani? Fair play? The Dani Clayton I know wouldn’t be interested in fair play, she’d want to rise above.”

“Peter is poison, Edmund. He’s not a good guy and I never understood your friendship with him. Besides, I’m not even the one who—” She trailed off, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to throw Rebecca under the bus. It didn’t matter who had gotten Peter arrested. “I can talk to people. Make sure the charges are eventually dropped. In the meantime, hopefully he learns his lesson.”

“He won’t,” Edmund muttered. “He really is an idiot.”

Dani smiled at him softly.

“Are you—I have to ask—” Edmund swallowed, attempted to sit up straighter but it was like the weight of the world was working against his posture and his shoulders refused to unslouch. “Do you have plans to go public with your accusations against my father?”

“Yes.” Nothing for it but honesty.

“To the police?”

“Of course to the police, I’m not looking to crucify him in the media. But that may end up happening anyway. Price you pay for being a the great Henry Wingrave, I guess.”

Edmund was silent for a long time.

Dani tilted her head. “Are you…?”

“Thinking. About what to say.” He glanced at her. “I read—I looked online. I read about the case. The forums and the theories.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “Anyone can say anything online.”

“Eddie…” She reached out to touch his arm but he pulled it away. She sighed. “I _remembered_. That’s why I ran from the wedding. That’s why Jamie broke your dad’s nose—he was threatening me—”

“Remembered what?”

“The night they died. I always thought I’d been dreaming, that I dreamed hearing my dad’s voice, the shouting, the commotion. But I remember now—I witnessed it, Eddie. I was at the top of the stairs, and your dad attacked my father—”

Edmund had a ghost of a smile on his face as he shook his head, like it was completely impossible. “What could possibly make my father hurt his best friend? His business partner, no less—"

Dani sighed deeply. “I don’t know how far into this you want to go—”

“All of it Dani!” His voice had jumped an octave. “If you’re going to go public don’t you think you at least owe me a private screening first?”

“Miles and Flora.”

“What about them?”

“My dad found their graves. Their—um. Their remains. Accidentally, while he was working on the treehouse the night before my birthday. They were buried out there.”

Edmund’s face was a mixture of disbelief and horror, but every now and then he would snap out of it and shake his head like it was all fantasy, like Dani was retelling a dream she’d had.

Still, she told him everything, left nothing out except the ghostly visitors—she was starting to realize they were their own story, one that she’d keep close and secret. She showed him the letter her father had written to Henry, detailing the inheritance. She watched him read it over and over.

Then, after a long silence, Edmund spoke.

“You could be wrong. If your memory was unreliable then how can you be sure it’s reliable now?”

“I hope I _am_ wrong, Eddie. But I don’t think I am. I…know I’m not.”

“His drinking started after your parents died. The drinking, the meanness. And I always thought it was because he was sad. Mourning his best friend.”

“And now? What do you think now?” Dani asked softly.

A longer silence. Finally, “What if you’re right?” He whispered it, staring down at the table.

“Then I guess we all have to live with it. What he did.”

“I can’t live with it if it’s true. I don’t want to live with that. All those years—” His eyes were wide, flicking back and forth like he was at the edge of an invisible precipice, looking down and realizing just how deep the abyss before him was. She saw it on his face the moment he shut the door, decided that she couldn’t possibly be right. “Dani, he’s a bastard but he’s not a killer, I swear he isn’t—he’s not _evil_ —" He looked at her, desperate.

She stood up and walked around the edge of the table. Leaned down and pulled him into a hug. “No Eddie— _you’re_ not evil. You can come from badness and still be good.”

“He wasn’t always bad. I still don’t—and my mom’s not—oh God, my mom—"

Dani pulled back. Nudged his glasses up his nose the way she had three million times before.

“I’ll give you a week. A week to talk to your mom. A week to have a plan in case he’s arrested for this. I’ll give you a week, and then I’m going to the police.”

“You’d do that?”

Dani thought about it. “The only thing is—if he gets out of the hospital before the week’s up, I don’t want him going back to the estate to destroy evidence—”

“I won’t tell him,” Edmund said. “If he did this…if it’s true. He needs to pay.” He looked Dani in the eye and shook his head. “I swear to you, I won’t say a word and neither will my mother.”

Dani nodded. She believed him. Edmund Wingrave was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

“Where will you go?” He asked. “After. When the dust clears.”

Dani raised a shoulder. “Haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

“Maybe you should start,” he said, tipping his head toward the back deck, “now that you’ve got someone to make plans with.”

Outside the glass slider Jamie was sucking down a cigarette, pacing the length of the deck and trying to look nonchalant, though every now and then her eyes betrayed her, flicking up to the door.

“Listen,” Edmund stood, “the estate is vacant right now, mom and I are staying across town with Aunt Prudence. If you need to get your stuff,” he pulled a key out of his pocket, followed by Dani’s cellphone and wallet, “you’re free to do so. You won’t run into anyone as long as you go within a week.”

Instead of taking the stuff out of his hands Dani reached up and hugged him. “I do love you, you know.” She pulled back, swallowing the lump in her throat. “So much.”

He smiled sadly. “But you’re _in_ love with her.”

She shrugged slowly. “Kinda seems to be headed that way, yeah.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed the top of her head. “You deserve all the good things.”

She caught his hand, squeezed it. “So do you. You know that, right?”

He sighed, seemed to really think about it before answering. “I’d like to deserve all the good things. I think—God,” he shook his head, “I think I haven’t really had the chance yet. To deserve anything. But I’d like to.”

Some small part of Dani’s heart melted a bit at that. If that wasn’t progress she didn’t know what was.

At the door he turned back, one last time. “If there’s a trial, I—please understand if my mother and I don’t attend—”

Dani bit her lip. “Might have to, Eddie. They might put you on the stand. Judy too.”

“Christ.”

“I don’t know what this is going to look like. But whatever happens I don’t blame you in this. I don’t blame Judy either. Whatever happens I want the best for you both.”

He was nodding at the floor again. “Can we—can we keep in touch? From time to time? When the dust clears?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

“She might not.” He nodded at the back slider where Jamie was standing three inches from the glass, smoking and not even attempting to pretend she wasn’t watching his every move.

Dani smirked. “She’ll be fine.”

Edmund hugged her one last time before turning to leave. He’d made it a good ten steps when Dani called after him.

“Wait—where will _you_ go after?”

He turned around, looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. “All over, I think. Everywhere I’ve never been.” He shot her a grin. “First stop? Thailand.”

*** 

Several days later they went back to the manor to collect their things. There was a vacant apartment above Owen’s restaurant and Owen had arranged for them to stay there temporarily.

Dani was packing up Jamie’s vinyl collection in her bedroom when Jamie appeared in the doorframe, holding the ceramic flower pot she’d cobbled back together.

“You do this?” Jamie asked, a soft smile on her lips.

“It’s not perfect—it’ll probably leak so you’ll want to keep it outside.”

Jamie walked over, knelt in front of her and kissed her. “Thank you.”

Dani just smiled and kissed her again.

“I’m done in the kitchen,” Jamie nodded back down the hall, “can take over in here if you still want to…?”

_Go say goodbye._

Dani had brought up the idea the day before. The possibility of walking over to the Clayton estate one last time to say goodbye. She didn’t plan on coming back again. Ever.

But suddenly she was hesitant. Scared. Eighteen years she’d been avoiding her childhood home. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she didn’t actually go in person to say goodbye...

“You should.” Jamie had a way of doing that. Of responding to thoughts Dani hadn’t even voiced. “’S important. That’s what today is about, Poppins,” she gestured around the hut, “settlin’ up with the past so we can move forward.”

“Will you come with me?”

Jamie leaned back and eyed her. “If you’re askin’. But honestly Dani, I think you should do it alone.”

“No you’re right,” Dani nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go.”

“Could walk you to the property line if you like?”

Dani smiled. “No, I can do this. I should do this.”

At the door of the greenhouse Jamie called after her, running to her and handing her a plucked orchid.

“For you to lay at the door,” she explained, then shrugged. “If you want.”

Dani took the flower, leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”

Considering it’d been sitting in the elements without a groundskeeper to manage its upkeep for eighteen years, the house wasn’t actually in terrible shape.

Where the Wingrave manor was all turrets and sharp corners, the Clayton manor was full of rounded towers and soft angles. Still massive, still far too much house for a single family. Still ridiculous, especially when she’d just come from the gardener’s hut. But there was no denying that it was softer. More welcoming.

Everything was overgrown, garden and grass had merged and all the weeds had grown tall enough to brush Dani’s thighs as she walked. She made her way to the front steps, a stone stairway that led to a massive wraparound porch, attached gazebos at either end.

She walked up the front steps, and when the rounded double doors came into view she stopped short, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. The doorknobs. They were custom made, she was almost certain—large pewter orbs etched with longitude and latitude lines to resemble globes. How many times had she run up these steps in the eight years she’d lived there, sweaty or muddy from playing outside, coming home for dinner or a snack or just to tell her mother what new discovery she’d made. Every time, running up and reaching for one of those pewter doorknobs to pull open the door. She never questioned the design of the doorknobs as a kid, but now she wished she could know why her parents had chosen them, if there was any significance to the design. So many things she’d love to be able to ask them.

She took her time walking around the porch, peeking in the windows. Between the bright sun and the dirty glass she couldn’t really see anything, but that was fine. The front doors were locked and that was fine too—she didn’t know if she could handle going in. Just being there on the grounds was a step. A big one.

The white orchid balanced perfectly atop the twin doorknobs, and after Dani rested it there she stepped back. Sighed deeply. Closed her eyes.

 _Thank you for eight incredible years,_ she silently said. She wasn’t sure who she was thanking—her parents or the house. Maybe both. _Thank you for a good start. A happy start. I won’t forget you._

A slight breeze picked up, rustling the dry leaves collected in the corners of the porch and she found herself smiling because it almost felt like they were answering back. Her parents. Whispering _you are loved_ on the wind.

The breeze died down and Dani took one last look at the double doors. One last mental snapshot of her childhood home, and then she turned to head back down the steps.

“Fuck!” Dani’s hands flew to her mouth.

“We’re terribly sorry to startle you again,” Flora said from where she stood on the overgrown front lawn.

Miles was standing next to her as always, nodding sincerely. “As we’ve explained, we don’t decide when—”

“When you arrive, I know, I’m sorry I—sorry about the bad word.”

Miles giggled. “That’s alright.”

Dani looked between them, their pale skin strange in the day’s bright light. But still, their sweet faces. Their innocent smiles.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m so terribly sorry for what happened to you.”

They didn’t say anything, they just watched Dani, looking somber and resigned. 

“I’m going to make it right,” Dani said. “I’m going to go to the police and we’ll get justice for you. For all of you—my parents too.”

Flora was nodding. “We believe you. We knew you would, you just needed a moment.”

“A moment?”

“When everything fell into place.”

Miles nodded. “When you remembered.”

“When you tell them, it’s most important that they find the key. You’ll tell them, won’t you?”

Dani shook her head. “I don’t—what key?”

“In his office,” Miles said. “The key to the chest. It’s the only way.”

“They only way to what?”

“To prove it was him.”

“I don’t understand—” Dani started.

“We don’t mean to be difficult, really we don’t,” Flora was smiling sadly. “It’s just—it’s awfully unpleasant, what we’re trying to say.”

“The belt was proof,” Miles said softly, “but your father took it when he found us. He wasn’t thinking about proof, he was only thinking of his sadness. Of his rage.”

Dani nodded.

“But there is another way,” Flora said. “The chest.”

“From his office? The one that’s missing?” Dani asked.

“Exactly,” Flora grinned.

“But,” Dani looked between them again, “what about it?”

“It’s in the lake,” Miles said softly. “The chest is in the lake, and the police will need the key in his office to open it.” His forehead furrowed as he frowned, looking for all the world like he wished he didn’t have to be having this conversation.

“What’s inside of it?” Dani asked, and as soon as she did she knew the answer. She saw it on their tiny faces.

Flora straightened, tried to look taller. Braver. “We are.”

Dani swiped at a tickle on her face, absently realizing it was a tear. “He—he put you in—inside of a chest?”

“After your father found us Henry wanted to move us. Hide us better,” Miles said. “We’ve been at the bottom of the lake for nearly eighteen years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dani whispered.

Miles shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt, you know. Only when it happened, and even then—”

“Only a little,” Flora said, and Miles nodded.

Dani swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I wish I could’ve been there to help you.”

“You’ve helped us quite a bit, actually,” said Flora. “Once the chest is found, once we’re properly…properly…” She seemed to be struggling, and Miles took her hand.

“Properly buried,” he finished for her, and she looked up at him and nodded.

“After that,” she said, “we won’t be stuck anymore.”

“Where will you go?” Dani asked.

“Where we’re meant to. Finally,” Flora said. “The same as you.”

“That’s right,” said Miles brightly. “We’ll all be free.”

Flora was nodding again. “And everything that comes next will be wonderful.”

“We have one thing to ask you, before we go—” Miles looked down at Flora expectantly and she seemed to suddenly remember something, pulling a rose out of her dress pocket. She held it out to Dani.

Dani took it. It was _real._ Soft red petals, intoxicating scent. She looked back at them, questioning.

“Frank asked us to give it to you,” Miles said. “For Jamie.”

Dani felt all the blood run out of her face. The ground swayed beneath her feet. It was _all_ real—not just the ghosts of Miles and Flora but all of it. Heaven or higher dimensions or some sort of great beyond. It was real.

Miles pointed at the rose. “Frank said to tell her that he’s proud of her, that she did a good job picking up where he left off. He also said to tell her that it should make sense now, why she needed to come back.”

Dani let out a laugh around a sudden sob. It was all too much. And it was incredible.

“Can I—” Dani pursed her lips, shaking her head at them. “Can I hug you guys? Is that—is that possible?”

Instead of answering they moved forward and folded into her, one on each side. There was a brilliant moment where it felt real, where Dani could feel their little arms around her, squeezing tight. It was a moment she’d knew she’d carry for the rest of her life.

As they started to fade they looked up at her and there wasn’t even a hint of the sadness that Dani had grown so used to seeing in their faces. They had the spark. The thing that’d been missing.

“It really will be, you know,” Flora whispered, even as she was fading. “Everything that comes next, I mean.”

Dani looked down at her little face. “Will be what?”

“Perfectly splendid,” Flora beamed, and it was radiant.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there exists a line between tastefully explicit and offensively pornographic, this chapter drunkenly cartwheels blindfolded down said line. Be this a warning for some and a promise for others.

The chest was pulled from the depths of the lake, unrecognizable beneath layers of muck and mud, one afternoon several weeks later. Nobody was allowed on the grounds as the police and divers worked, but Dani had gotten as close as possible—waited on the side of the road several hundred feet from the gate. Jamie, Owen and Hannah were by her side and they waited there until after sundown when the coroner’s truck finally pulled out, carrying Miles and Flora off of the property at long last. After half a century, they were finally free.

For once, the justice system worked swiftly—likely thanks to the universal consensus that it was high time someone was held accountable. Miles and Flora had waited far too long for justice already. It was a whirlwind, exhausting and draining and awful at times, but still far preferable to something long and drawn-out. From beginning to end, the entire ordeal took little more than three months. Unheard of for the justice system. But possibly just a little more good fortune for Dani, slowly but surely balancing the scales.

In the end, there was no trial. No big media frenzy, aside from the reporters gathered outside the courthouse the day that Henry Wingrave entered his guilty plea. It was shocking at first—the great Henry Wingrave accepting defeat without a fight, but it was assumed his legal counsel had urged him to accept the plea—manslaughter for the deaths of Miles and Flora, and in exchange no charges would be pressed for the deaths of Oliver and Eleanor Clayton. It was a shit outcome, in Dani’s opinion. In the opinion of the whole United Kingdom, it seemed. But there wasn’t enough evidence to charge him with murder and in the end Dani knew her father would’ve chosen justice for his siblings over justice for himself.

The silver lining was the legal loophole that Dani’s barristers pushed her to pursue, and in the end it was a wrongful death suit that brought an end to the Wingrave empire. It shouldn’t have ended that way—out of court, haggling over numbers as if the lives of Dani’s parents were immaterial enough to merit bartering. But powers beyond the detectives in Bly, powers that couldn’t be bought off or intimidated by a powerful family name, decided to give Dani all of it. The entire Wingrave fortune, including the money gained from the recent buyout of Wingrave Mining by a larger mining company further north. She didn’t want it, but it was comforting to know that Henry wouldn’t be able to buy his way into an early release. And when he was released a great many years later, he would be destitute. Money had been his only source of power, and without it he’d just be a poor old man. One day he’d have to find work, and Dani could almost hear her father chuckling at the idea—Henry Wingrave, bagging groceries or driving Uber. In some ways, the fact that Henry would have to join the ranks of all the people he’d spent a lifetime looking down his nose at—the fact he’d have to make it as an ex-convict in a working-class society—in some ways, Dani felt like that was better. More fitting a punishment.

The Wingrave money, after weeks of paperwork and back-and-forth barrister litigations, had one afternoon quite simply dropped into Dani’s bank account without warning or fanfare. She and Jamie had laughed at the ridiculous sum of money suddenly sitting in her account when just the day prior they’d been seeking out store-brand groceries to save a few quid. But when they were done laughing, when Dani had taken a screenshot of the insane row of digits appearing in the mobile bank app for the sheer humor of it, they’d sat down to figure out how they were going to get rid of it. All of it. Dani didn’t want it and when she’d told Jamie, Jamie had just said _don’t blame ya._ And that was that.

She gave half of it to Edmund and Judy. More than enough for them to live comfortably—live _well_ , many lifetimes over. Dani hadn’t seen Edmund since Fernwood Hollow and she hadn’t seen Judy since the almost-wedding, but through Edmund she’d learned that Judy wasn’t doing well. _Mentally and physically heartbroken_ , he’d said. That the horror of what Henry had done had aged her twenty years overnight, broken her body as well as her spirit. _One day_ , Dani thought, one day she’d visit Judy and they’d talk. A _real_ talk for once—no martinis, no gossip, no façade. Dani would tell her it was okay. That she didn’t blame her for a thing. Not anymore. Not when Judy had lost everything too. And maybe Judy would hug her the way she used to when Dani and Edmund were kids, bounding off the plane at Heathrow after another year at Radley. In those moments, so rare and brief, Judy had felt like a mother. Not Dani’s real mother because no one could ever come close to replacing her, but Judy’s bright smile and tight embrace, like she’d truly missed Dani all school year—it had been an echo. An echo of Eleanor, and Dani really hoped she could feel that again one day.

Owen and Hannah had refused the checks that Dani had written for them. It was owed, Dani said, for all they’d done to help. If not for them she might’ve never had the strength to break free. But still they refused, so Dani quietly put it an account with their names on it. A safety net, theirs if they ever had need for it.

The rest of the money, oddly enough, had ended up in the hands of Viola and her girlfriend in London. As it turned out, in addition to being an occasional partier— _only when forced to be around the Wingraves and on the occasional long weekend,_ she’d assured—Viola was also at the helm of a non-profit startup to recover and assist missing and endangered children from the foster care system. With the rest of the Wingrave fortune Viola and Trish were able to quadruple their efforts and by the end of the first week they’d already helped twelve children. There were even plans for Jamie to be a guest speaker about her own time in foster care at the gala they were planning for the winter.

It was, in Dani’s opinion, the best possible way to honor everyone she’d lost, as well as all of those she’d found.

***

Jamie had started a new job several towns over, a temporary landscaping gig where she and several other gardeners were doing a complete overhaul of a large property, transforming it from an empty lot into a golf course. The company was putting her up in the hotel adjacent to the property while Dani stayed in the apartment above Owen’s. It worked for now, even if Dani had been disappointed at first.

“Got a whole lifetime, yeah?” Jamie had said with a little smile when Dani had pouted, reminding her that Owen had secured the apartment for _both_ of them. Jamie had just kissed the corner of her mouth over and over until Dani couldn’t help but smile, then she’d pulled back with a wink and said, “Let’s ease into it, Poppins. Enjoy the journey.”

The journey, it turned out, included Jamie spending weekends—Friday evening through Sunday afternoon—with Dani at the apartment in Bly. And if the occasional Sunday evening ended with Dani getting between Jamie and the door, sinking to her knees with _that_ look on her face, dragging it out until it made much more sense for Jamie to just stay over again and leave early Monday morning, well. Jamie never complained.

The week Henry was sentenced—twenty years, it turned out, the harshest sentence possible under the circumstances—the news channels were playing the footage of him walking up the steps of the court on repeat, as well as old footage of the news briefs and aerials of the search parties from when Miles and Flora had first disappeared. It was impossible to avoid it—even Dani’s phone was lighting up with updates from every possible news source.

She spent all Saturday in front of the television, listening to the anchors discuss legal proceedings, chewing up and spitting out every last detail of the case over and over. Jamie had lingered in the kitchen of the small apartment and Dani suspected she was washing the same dishes repeatedly just to have an excuse to keep an eye on Dani.

Finally, when Dani had spent eight hours on the sofa staring at the screen, Jamie appeared with the remote and shut it off.

“Not a psychologist, but this can’t be healthy,” she said.

Dani looked at her. Shrugged. “I never used to watch any of it, I shut it out completely. But I missed so much—maybe if I’d paid attention sooner he wouldn’t have gotten away with it for so long.”

“Dani,” Jamie said, in that authoritative voice she’d only pulled out a handful of times since Dani had been with her, “it’s done now. Can’t change the way things happened. Watchin’ this shite isn’t gonna do anythin’ for you, and it won’t do anythin’ for them either.” She sat down on the couch and took Dani’s face in her hands. “They’re at peace now, yeah?”

Dani nodded.

“That’s thanks to you.”

Dani shifted so she could curl up, laying her head in Jamie’s lap. Jamie’s fingers threaded through her hair.

“Think we should go out tonight,” Jamie said. “Do somethin’ other than think about Henry fuckin’ Wingrave.”

“Okay,” Dani surprised herself by saying. But the idea of getting out sounded like a good one, the more she thought about it. She turned her head in Jamie’s lap to look up at her. “To Owen’s?”

Jamie smiled. “If you like.”

It was the easy choice—there was something cozy about staying above _The Good Thyme,_ something nice about Owen being right downstairs. Didn’t hurt that he brought Dani gourmet dishes from his kitchen at least twice a week either. 

That evening Dani was drying her hair when she glanced up at the bathroom mirror and caught sight of Jamie in the bedroom beyond the bathroom door. She was standing at the full length mirror they’d leaned up against the far wall and Dani smirked when she saw what she was wearing.

“Was three months the official time period required before it was acceptable to steal each other’s clothes?”

“Not stealin’,” Jamie said, turning sideways to check her reflection from a different angle, “just borrowin’. Tryin’ it out.”

It was a black blazer, fitted with three-quarter length sleeves. A couple matte silver buttons up the middle. On Jamie it looked…not bad at all. Pretty good, actually. Really good.

Dani sat on the bed watching her. “It suits you, keep it.”

Jamie shot her a look. “Looks better on you, I’m sure.”

Dani just shook her head dumbly, taking in the lowcut white tee shirt partially tucked in beneath the blazer, the dark blue skinny jeans, the ever-present Doc Martens.

Jamie went to button it and a tag slid out from inside the lapel, hanging from a white string. Jamie looked at it and her eyes doubled in size, then she was raising an eyebrow and making a face at Dani.

“Four-hundred sixty-eight quid?” Jamie looked down at the blazer then back at Dani. “For _this_?”

“It was a Christmas gift from Judy,” Dani tried to hold back an embarrassed laugh, “I didn’t buy it. No leave it on—” Dani said, because Jamie was already sliding out of it, “it looks _good_ —”

“Fuckin’ better!” Jamie laughed. “Should also dry clean itself and pick up the tab at dinner.” She shook her head but kept the blazer on, to Dani’s delight.

Dani opted for a simple gray sun dress that, when paired with a pair of short nude heels, had Jamie’s eyes on her legs like magnets. It was unnecessary, getting dressed up to go to Owen’s like it was a night on the town, but still. They hadn’t gone out much in the last few months, too much time and energy spent worrying about the case. Traveling to and from the barristers’ offices, the precinct, the courthouse for the wrongful death suit. A night out was long overdue.

The restaurant was packed when they headed downstairs, groups of people huddled around every table.

“Busy tonight,” Jamie said when Owen seated them at the only open spot.

“It’s game night!” He said with a smile. “Something new I’m trying.”

“At the request of your new manager?” Dani asked, smiling.

“God no,” Owen laughed, “much to her chagrin, really.”

Like she’d been cued Hannah suddenly appeared, dressed to the nines. “Are you two here for dinner or to file a noise complaint?” She asked, a bit wild eyed at the commotion and chaos that had taken over the usually peaceful restaurant.

“We were planning on food but that’s looking more tempting by the minute,” Dani pointed over to where a table of people were dressed as wizards, deeply invested in some sort of card game.

Owen sucked in a breath through his teeth. “That’s the big leagues, Clayton, very elite group of gamers right there. Probably best to work your way up.” He called out to a passing waiter and asked him to bring some appetizers for the table. Hannah slid into the booth opposite Dani and Jamie and Owen slid in after her, just as another waiter arrived with four frothy pints.

“So,” Hannah said in that straight-to-it voice Dani knew so well, “how are we today?” She didn’t end it with _sweet girl_ but she may as well have, it was the exact same question—Henry had been sentenced and it was only a matter of time before Dani had to address her feelings on the matter.

Dani sighed. “Twenty years is…” _A joke. An insult. Astronomically unfair._ “The best possible outcome, according to the barristers. Ten years for Miles, ten for Flora.” She took a sip of beer because her mouth was suddenly dry. “It’s longer than most sentences for manslaughter but,” she raised a shoulder, “he’ll probably be released sooner. Just the way the system is, they tell me. The barristers.” Actually she’d learned that last bit during a night-long dive down an internet rabbit hole about how prison sentences in the United Kingdom were a joke—people charged with murder rarely had to serve a full twenty years, never mind manslaughter. The only reason Henry’s sentence was so harsh, Dani assumed, was because of international pressure by a world of people who were suddenly reinvested in the case of Bly’s missing children, furious to hear that Henry Wingrave was behind it and had been living free the whole time.

Owen made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Twenty years. It’s not right. The man deserves to rot in there, what he did...” He looked away, shaking his head.

“He’s paying,” Dani said. “No more money, no more estate, no more power. Everything he loved is gone. When he gets out he’ll be penniless.”

“And in the meantime,” Jamie raised her pint, “here’s hopin’ the burlier blokes give him a good peggin’ now and again to remind him how badly he’s fucked.”

“Here, here,” said Hannah, shocking everyone.

As Hannah took a sip of beer Owen glanced at Jamie and Dani, a smile teasing at his cheeks. 

“Hannah, love,” he turned to her, “do you know what _pegging_ means?”

Hannah looked at him over her pint. “It’s—surely it’s when you rough someone up, isn’t it? The way Henry had those prisoners peg Jamie when she—“

“Oi!” Jamie’s eyes got wide and then she leaned toward Hannah, lowering her horror-laden voice. “Have you been goin’ round these past three months tellin’ people I got pegged in prison?” 

Dani was stifling her laughter and the effort was making her shake.

“Well I—“ Hannah dragged her eyes away from Jamie and looked helplessly at Owen. “I’ve got it wrong, haven’t I?” 

Owen nodded affectionately. He leaned in, whispering what could only be the actual definition of the word because Hannah’s eyes bulged and she looked at Jamie before covering her mouth with her hand, taking it away briefly to whisper _I’m so sorry_ and then covering it back up again.

Dani was laughing so hard there were tears, and soon Jamie joined her, followed by Owen and eventually, once she’d recovered from embarrassment, Hannah.  
They settled into a comfortable silence for a moment before Jamie changed the subject altogether.

“So game night,” she drummed her hands on the table, “what sort of debauchery’s on offer? Checkers? Chess? Long as it’s not Candyland, I’m in—"

“Oh!” Hannah said brightly, putting a hand on Owen’s arm. “Maybe one of these two will play with you.”

“Play what?” Dani asked.

Owen was shaking his head at Hannah. “She refuses to battle me on the chess board no matter how many times I ask, something about all the trophies I won back in boarding school…”

“Something about your insufferable pomposity, more like,” Hannah said with a good-natured smile.

“Dani played in school too,” Jamie said, nudging Dani with an elbow before looking her way. “Chess club, wasn’t it?”

“Clayton!” Owen said, mouth dropping open. “A fellow chess nerd all this time?”

“Edmund wanted me to join archery club with him at Radley so I could watch him shoot things.” She shrugged. “Chess club was the only thing that offered a schedule conflict.”

“He might’ve wanted to watch _you_ shoot things,” Jamie said.

“Why?” Dani asked.

Jamie and Owen exchanged a look and a laugh.

“Cause it’s sexy, Poppins.”

Dani made a face. “I doubt—” She took a second to picture Jamie with a bow and arrow. _Oh._ “Maybe.”

“So how about it, Dani?” Owen asked. “Friendly game of chess?”

It turned out to be exactly what they’d both needed. Maybe what all four of them had needed—Owen and Hannah seemed to be having an excellent time too, letting the waitstaff handle food orders and just relaxing for the night.

Two rounds of beer and three rounds of salty appetizers later a small crowd had formed around their table as Dani and Owen battled it out. Owen had taken blacks, Dani whites. They were both a bit rusty but they’d whittled down the board, capturing every piece between them except for a handful of pawns—two of Dani’s and one of Owen’s. After Dani cut off Owen’s remaining pawn with her king she made a mad dash with her two remaining pawns to the opposite end of the board, reclaiming her queen, and Owen toppled his own king with an index finger before extending a hand to Dani as the small crowd around them cheered.

“Well done, Clayton,” Owen said, bowing his head in submission as he shook her hand.

Dani’s cheeks were warm as several people in the crowd congratulated her. She glanced at Jamie, sitting farther inside the booth on her right, and Jamie shot her an impressed grin, all raised eyebrows and pouted lip.

Before Dani knew what was happening Owen was standing and another guy, a tall redhead with a bushy beard, was sliding into the booth and extending his hand.

“Rufus Baldwin, chess tutor at Eton.”

“Dani Clayton…” She shook his hand with a curious smile.

“Up for a second round?” Rufus looked at her hopefully.

Dani glanced at Hannah, who was sitting across the table next to Rufus and nodding at Dani encouragingly.

“I’m really not—” _that good,_ the old Dani Clayton would’ve said, but she wasn’t that person anymore. She flashed Rufus a bright smile. “Sure, why not,” she said, resetting her pieces as the waiter showed up with a third round of drinks.

She beat Rufus even quicker than she’d beaten Owen, and then there was a queue forming, a line of people waiting to play against her. She played her way through all of them, convinced that blind luck was on her side because she definitely didn’t remember playing as well at Radley. After each win Jamie would send her a wink or a little smile or the _perfect_ sign with her thumb and forefinger. Dani had beaten a young college kid and a woman with blue hair when the last person waiting to play against her, a guy with dark shoulder-length hair and a white smile that made Dani slightly uneasy, settled in across from her.

“Hey there,” he said, offering his hand, “I’m Brad.”

“Hi Brad,” she said, bright and friendly and maybe slightly buzzed as she reset the pieces yet again.

“Quite the streak you’re having,” he said softly. “Came to win tonight, did you?”

She could feel his eyes on her face as she set the board. “Actually I came to eat,” she said, tearing off a bite of soft pretzel with her teeth, nudging one of her pawns up then gesturing for him to make his first move.

The game went slowly. Brad was one of those players who overthought every move.

Dani was starting to get bored with the whole thing. It had all been fun and unexpected and hey, who didn’t like surprising everyone with a secret skill set, but she was kind of wishing for a quieter night, just the four of them.

“Your move,” Brad said in a deep husky voice.

Without much thought she moved her bishop and checked him while simultaneously taking a sip of beer.

He shot her a rogue grin. “Bold.”

She shrugged. It wasn’t bold, it was easy…Brad wasn’t actually all that good at chess. He seemed to take her shrug as some sort of an apology.

“Bold is good,” he was saying, “confidence is beautiful.” His eyes were burning into her face and Dani felt Jamie’s foot nudging her under the table. She dared a glance in her direction and had to look away immediately because Jamie was just barely smothering her laughter.

Brad evaded her for several more moves until he backed himself into a corner, overlooking her rook, and it was a swift checkmate from there.

“Sorry, Brad,” Dani pulled up one side of her mouth in a small smile and was about to turn and talk to Hannah and Jamie when Brad caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

“It’s been an honor,” he said, still holding her hand. “Are you ever available for…private sessions?”

Dani knew she was looking at him in horror because what did that even mean, but fortunately she didn’t have to gawk for long because Jamie slid a hand around Dani’s neck, leaned in and kissed her with an uncharacteristic display of claim and ownership that would’ve repulsed Dani had she witnessed it from another couple, but somehow because it was Jamie it had the opposite effect, scrambling her thoughts and sending heat down her spine.

Jamie pulled away a fraction, her eyes still on Dani’s face. “G’night, Brad.”

Out of the corner of her eye Dani saw Brad’s sulking figure get up and walk away.

“Too much?” Jamie winced, still looking at Dani.

Dani smirked. “Too late now.” She gave her a peck.

“Fairly decent at your little board game there,” Jamie said, head tilted.

Dani grinned. “Told you I was in chess club.” She started putting the pieces away and Jamie’s hand wrapped around her wrist. Dani looked at her.

Jamie’s eyebrow was arched. “One more round?”

“You play?”

“Been watchin’ you, haven’t I? Reckon I can find my way round the board at this point.”

Owen rejoined them, sliding into the booth and wrapping an arm around Hannah who filled him on Jamie’s request to challenge Dani.

“Oh, it’s getting exciting now!” Owen said, waggling his eyebrows and sliding back out to make room across the way for Jamie.

Jamie opted to slide over by way of the tabletop, prompting an eyeroll from Hannah and a _mind the pints_ from Owen who’d settled back down next to Dani.

Jamie rubbed her hands together, looking down at the set board. “So how’s it start again?”

“All chess games start the same. Once a pawn a time…” Owen said, and Dani looked at him, shook her head slowly when he started to chuckle at himself.

“Move any of your pawns,” Dani said, “like this,” she moved her kingside pawn up one space, “forward only—one space or two when they first leave their starting square. You can also move your knight—they move—”

“L-shaped pattern, yeah?” Jamie asked and Dani nodded. “See I was watchin’.”

Jamie seemed to be unsure which move to make first, and Dani smiled. “Early on in the game it doesn’t make a huge difference, basically you just want to free up space for yourself to move around the board.” It wasn’t exactly sound chess advice but Dani wasn’t about to inundate her with chess theory.

“Right then,” Jamie said decisively, pushing the pawn in front of her king up two squares.

“Good,” Dani smiled, and Jamie grinned, adorably proud.

Dani moved the pawn in front of her knight forward two squares, figuring she’d lead by example and free up room for her bishop and rook to come into play, assuming Jamie would follow suit.

She took a long sip of beer and absently nodded at Owen when he said something about the card-playing wizards drinking his tap dry. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jamie make her move, so she took another bite of pretzel and was reaching to move her bishop when Jamie suddenly said _checkmate_ and took a sip of beer, casual as a summer breeze.

Dani blinked at the board. Blinked up at Jamie, blinked back at the board. Jamie’s queen had cut across the board, leaving no escape for Dani’s king. In two moves she’d put Dani in checkmate. When Dani looked back up, Jamie’s adorable grin had vanished and her naïve pretense was gone. In its place was a smirk, an arched brow and a look of absolute cunning in her eyes.

Dani glanced at Owen, who seemed equally shell-shocked.

“How—”

“Not much to do growin’ up in a gardener’s hut with an elderly man,” Jamie said, smirk still very present, “’sides for talkin’ flowers and playin’ chess. Played every night from age five til fifteen.” She shrugged. “Wager it didn’t hurt that Frank was a national chess champion ‘fore he was a gardener.”

The crowd was forming again, word spreading across the restaurant that Dani had been beaten at last, in two moves, no less. Jamie humbly turned down several requests to play a second round and traded places again with Owen, sliding back into the booth beside Dani and draping an arm around her shoulder. And if she was picking up on the all-consuming thirst that was suddenly emanating from every part of Dani’s being, well, she was playing the role of oblivious bystander quite skillfully.

Owen and Hannah were chatting with a few stragglers still standing by the table and Dani took advantage of the moment, leaning into Jamie and whispering that she needed her immediately, like within the next three minutes, or she would _literally lose her mind._

Jamie was looking at her, half amused and half incredulous. “Jesus Dani, _chess_? Really?”

“Mhmm, apparently. Upstairs now.”

Jamie had a bewildered look on her face but she stuck out her lower lip and nodded once. She said goodnight, saluting Owen and Hannah before standing and sliding her hands into the pockets of her blazer, heading for the door to the staircase leading to the apartment. Dani followed close behind, not even a little bit embarrassed that it was totally obvious what they were headed off to do.

Owen called after them at the door.

“Your tent came today, the delivery bloke left it down here with me.”

“Tent?” Dani asked.

Jamie was pursing her lips, slightly shaking her head at Owen. “Cheers for that, mate.”

“What? Did she—” his eyes went wide and he glanced at Dani, “does she not know?”

“She’s been telling you for weeks that it’s a surprise, love,” Hannah said, putting her hand on his arm.

“Oh, well…” Owen shook his head, looking sheepish before splaying his hands and shrugging at Dani. “Surprise!”

“Wanker,” Jamie was still shaking her head at Owen. “Can I nab it tomorrow?”

“Whenever,” Owen said agreeably.

“Tent?” Dani asked again, following after Jamie, who was taking the stairs two at a time.

“Belated birthday gift,” Jamie said, slamming the door behind them and pushing Dani into the wall, leaning in to bite at her neck.

“A—” Dani’s eyes rolled back, she was slowly losing cerebral function, “tent?”

“Goin’ campin’,” Jamie husked against her neck, hands moving to unbutton the back of Dani’s dress.

It took a second for the words to permeate, for Dani to process them, but once she had her eyes flew open. “We are?!”

Jamie flew back a foot, which was probably a direct result of Dani’s high-pitched squeal.

“ _When_?” Dani’s face felt like it had helium in it.

Jamie sighed with a small smile, seeming to accept that Dani’s desperation had, at least for the moment, been replaced with childlike glee.

“Next week. Didn’t really get to celebrate your birthday, everythin’ was,” she gestured in the air. Dani’s birthday had fallen in the middle of the court chaos and at the time she hadn’t felt much like celebrating. “Was meant to be a surprise, but,” Jamie shrugged a shoulder.

“No it _was_ a surprise and besides this is better because now I can look forward to it,” Dani grabbed her shoulders, “so tell me everything.”

Jamie hooked her hands over Dani’s forearms. “Bloke I know from my days back in the system—good sort, we were placed in the same home for a year or so as kids—he and his wife have some land on the coast. They’re opening up a campground there but we get to go first ‘fore it’s open to the public. He’s invited me out a few times, and this time I said yes.”

Dani could feel herself grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so excited.”

Jamie smiled. “There’s more…you really don’t want to be surprised?”

“I’m _being_ surprised currently, and then I’ll just be excited.”

“Alright,” she was nodding, “Owen and Hannah are joinin’ us and…” she drum-rolled her hands on Dani’s arms, “Rebecca and Calvin are too. They’re flyin’ over and they’ll get there a few days after us.”

It was apparent from the look on Jamie’s face that whatever reaction she’d been expecting, she had not been prepared for Dani to burst into tears.

“Hey—Dani—what? Do you not want—”

“It’s perfect,” Dani said around a sob, “you’re perfect and it’s perfect and I—” _love you_ , she’d almost said. They hadn’t said it yet, but there’d been moments where the words had hung between them, moments where it was so obvious that they were both thinking it. The moments where it went unsaid had begun snowballing and building and Dani knew one of them had to say it soon before the window closed and it started to become awkward that they _weren’t_ saying it. “Thank you,” Dani whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

“’S your birthday—well, _was_ your birthday,” Jamie shrugged. “Wanna celebrate you.”

Dani kissed her again, and they spent the rest of the night celebrating each other.

***

A week later they were barreling north in Jamie’s truck, headed to the coast of Yorkshire. They planned to arrive at the campground that afternoon, giving themselves a night alone before Owen and Hannah arrived the next day. Then Rebecca and Calvin, who, according to Rebecca, had quite the passionate reunion back in the states following the Peter Quint debacle, would arrive the day after that.

“Suspiciously quiet over there, Poppins,” Jamie said, glancing over from the driver’s seat.

Dani tore her eyes away from the passing scenery and smiled at Jamie. “Just excited.”

“Me too,” Jamie said, sending her a grin before turning on the radio.

It was true, she _was_ excited, but there was more to it. She was thinking. Because two days earlier she’d finally done it—finally brought the paperwork to the bank where her parents had left the money in the inheritance accounts to collect the first portion. And she’d walked out with a check for ten million pounds and a hell of a lot to think about. Plans to make. She hadn’t told Jamie yet—she wanted to enjoy the camping trip, let _her_ enjoy the camping trip, in all its simplicity before any talk of real life and adult decisions.

The same afternoon she’d gone to the bank she’d also opened the second letter. It’d been shorter than the first.

_Danielle,_

_While we’ve made it clear that your education is a priority, it’s undeniable that classrooms can only teach you so much. Knowledge gained from books and knowledge gained from life are two separate things, but when paired together they complement each other quite well. In our experience the very best way to learn about the world is to see it. To experience and interact with it and uncover hidden passions and talents within yourself as you step outside your comfort zone. For your second portion of the inheritance we ask that you seek adventure. And once every page of your passport is filled with inked impressions from near and far you can bring it to the bank. As you go we hope you’ll remember that travel itself is a luxury, and while there’s nothing wrong with the occasional stay at an all-inclusive resort you’ll end up with a skewed view of the world if you only ever view it from behind the shining, white-washed walls of westernized cages. We want you to experience other cultures, customs and people. Learn from them, find the beauty in that which is foreign, and give back generously as you do. You’ll find, of this we are certain, that people everywhere are both beautifully different and fundamentally the same, and that the good in this world and its inhabitants far outweighs the bad.  
  
_

_Love forever, M &D_

When she’d finished reading it she’d folded it back up, opened her laptop and searched for information on places she knew by name but had never considered visiting. Pictured herself hiking Machu Picchu with Jamie, a couple of llamas by their side. Or maybe visiting St. Petersburg and stepping out after seeing the ballet to find the city’s beautiful architecture dusted in a layer of fresh snow.

 _Seek adventure._ Her passport thus far had been limited to stamps from Heathrow and Logan, Logan and Heathrow, back to back to back to back. But with ten million pounds…since reading the letter she’d found herself wondering which Jamie would prefer; a Kenyan safari or a riverboat cruise down the Amazon. She also kept circling back to the thought of Jamie in a bikini. Maybe a trip to the Greek Isles…

“You sure you’re alright?” Jamie asked again, turning down the radio and sending Dani a concerned glance.

Dani nodded. “I was picturing you in a bikini.”

Jamie did a double take. “You continue to surprise,” she chuckled. “So how do I look?”

“Good. Very good.” Dani closed her eyes on a smile. “It’s like black triangles on top and then you have these board shorts that kind of hang low on your hips when you walk and oh, there’s also sunglasses, you know those aviator ones that—”

Jamie’s laughter interrupted the fantasy. “Do this often, do you? Fantasize about me while I’m right bloody here?”

“Sometimes.”

Jamie made a thoughtful noise as she nodded, staring at the road ahead. Then, one hand on the wheel, snuck a hand over and hitched a finger through the belt loop of Dani’s shorts, pulling her closer. Teased a hand up her thigh.

“So while I’m in my bikini what will you be wearin’, Miss Clayton?”

“What would you like me to be wearing?”

Jamie grinned at the road. “Not a fuckin’ thing.”

“Going to scandalize a lot of beachgoers—”

“In _my_ fantasy we’re the only ones there.”

Just then Jamie pulled off the exit, following signs pointing them to the campground.

“This isn’t a campground,” Dani said when they’d parked the truck at the designated site.

Jamie glanced at her. “Not what you were hopin’ for?”

“Not what I was expecting—Jamie, this is _incredible_ —” She opened the truck door and stepped out, the sea breeze rushing all around her.

They were high up on the coastline, white cliffs stretching north and south as far as they could see, and a small wood fence along the edge to discourage accidental falls. The beach directly below their site was almost a cove—sheltered by white rock formations that reached all the way out past the water line. The water was a brilliant blue and the hillside they’d be camping on was a striking green, grass and wildflowers waving in the breeze.

There was a main building down the hill with amenities and the owner, Jamie’s friend from the system, had promised they wouldn’t run short on hot water because theirs was the only group staying.

Jamie got to work pulling the tent from the truck and unpacking its parts while Dani pulled their belongings out, suitcases and sleeping bags, setting them on the picnic table which stood behind a newly dug firepit.

The tent was large with all sorts of interlocking poles and clips and Jamie was sitting on the ground reading the instructions, trying to sort out the various components. Dani joined her and together they made sense of it, though the tent’s material was new and stiff and it took a decent amount of strong-arming to make any sort of progress.

At one point Dani went to the car to get the water bottle—the summer sun was directly overhead and they’d both begun to consider hopping the fence and sliding down the cliffs into the ocean—and when she turned back around she was struck by the sight of Jamie. It was how ordinary the situation was, the simplicity that struck her. Jamie was squatting down, peering at the instructions with mild frustration as she struggled to connect tent clip to tent pole. There was a rolled bandana in her hair and sweat on her brow and when Dani handed her the water bottle she took a giant gulp, handed the bottle back to Dani and tore out of the flannel shirt she’d been wearing, cursing the sun then grabbing the water bottle back after she was down to just denim shorts and a crop top.

It was ordinary. Just a girl trying to set up a tent for her girlfriend’s birthday campout. But there was something in that ordinariness. Something that made Dani’s heart clench, sent warmth blooming across her chest. It also made her want.

It had been building inside Dani for days. Weeks even. A sense of confidence in who she was, that she was finally living authentically. In many ways it was like hitting puberty in her late twenties, the way she was constantly _wanting_ now that she’d realized how good it could be. Now that she finally understood what everyone was always talking about, why people made such a big deal about sex. And she and Jamie had been having _a lot_ of sex. But there was still that leash. The one Dani saw pulling Jamie back when her control would start to slip. Like she didn’t want to scare Dani away. And maybe at first it had made sense to assume those roles—gentle teacher and eager student—but Dani wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t weak, and she didn’t want Jamie to hold back anymore. Likewise, she realized quite suddenly, _she_ didn’t want to hold back anymore either.

And maybe today was the day. The day the leash came off. No more swallowed words or repressed desires. Let the last of the walls between them crumble.

“Poppins, hand me that pole right there?”

Dani was aware on some level that Jamie had asked her something. But her question hadn’t been quite as loud or insistent as the way all the muscles in her back were bunching and flexing on full display as she wrestled with the tent.

“Dani?” Jamie, who was squatting down again, looked over her shoulder.

Dani watched a bead of sweat make its way down Jamie’s flushed face. Her flushed, confused face.

Dani blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Jamie pointed to the pole at Dani’s feet. Dani bent down. Picked up the pole. Walked over, held it out. Didn’t let go when Jamie tried to take it.

Jamie eyed her. “Bein’ a bit weird—”

Dani, still not letting go of the pole, nodded. “I know.”

“Alright?”

“Mhmm.”

“Gonna let me have this?” She tugged on the pole, a smirk starting by the corner of her mouth.

“I think—I kind of think I want to have sex.”

Jamie was looking at her like she was mental. “What— _now_?”

Dani’s nod was frantic. “Mhmm, right now.”

Jamie stood up slowly, looking around, maybe to gauge just how alone they were. “Can you wait ten minutes for the tent to be—”

“Nope.”

The smirk was back. “Seriously?”

Another frantic nod.

“Right then.” She swiped at the sweat on her brow with a forearm and glanced around once more, but there was no one else on the property, they’d already been assured.

When Jamie’s focus swiveled back around and centered on Dani, the look on her face sent a thrill of adrenaline up Dani’s spine. Like Dani had no idea what she’d just gotten herself in for. Dani rarely asked for it—usually there was a mutual build up—but when it did start off more one-sided it never stayed that way for long because Jamie seemed to go wild when Dani was like this, practically begging for it.

Jamie stalked toward her, grabbed her hips and shoved her against the truck. Hard. She pinned her there with her own hips, snaking a hand between them to cup her through her shorts.

“This what you want?” She asked, and even with her eyes closed Dani could feel Jamie searching her face.

Dani pushed into Jamie’s hand, letting out a moan because _fuck_ she was horny, and suddenly Jamie was shoving her hips against the truck again, hard enough for Dani’s eyes to fly open.

“Asked you a question,” Jamie said, a single eyebrow raised. “Is this,” she cupped Dani tighter, “what you want?”

“Fuck yes,” Dani said, unable to keep her hips from moving against Jamie’s hand.

Three months in and sex with Jamie was still always different. There were nights where it was slow and meaningful and times when it was hot and desperate. Times when being silly seamlessly led to being naked and times when one of them was having a bad day and just needed the comfort. But every once in a great while there was this: unparalleled hunger.

Dani leaned in, trying to capture Jamie’s lips but suddenly Jamie’s left hand was around her neck, not quite choking but firm, pushing her back flush with the side of the truck.

“My rules,” Jamie said gruffly. Her fingers pulled at the crotch of Dani’s shorts, working to one-handedly tug the fabric aside. When she’d succeeded she plunged a finger into Dani with a noise that sounded a hell of a lot like a growl coming from her throat.

Dani’s fingers raked across Jamie’s sides where she’d been holding on, and her hips strained to move on Jamie’s finger even as Jamie was adding a second one. Dani moaned again, both of them watching each other’s eyes as Jamie pushed her fingers in as far as she could, holding them there.

Dani clenched around them, let out a frustrated groan as her head fell back against the truck, Jamie’s hand still at her throat. She needed more, she needed hard and fast and Jamie _knew_ it, she was teasing her, making her wait for it.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “ _please_ —”

“Why?”

Dani blinked. “What?”

“We were puttin’ up the tent and then suddenly this. Why?”

“ _You_ ,” Dani said honestly, hips still aching to move despite Jamie’s relentless anchoring. “You were—with the tent and the sweating and the muscles—”

Jamie slid her fingers out of Dani, looking like she was about to laugh and that was decidedly _not_ the tone Dani was going for, so she summoned her bravery, looked Jamie in the eye and said exactly what she meant. “You,” she swallowed, “are so f _ucking_ hot and I am so _fucking_ horny and I can’t wait and I don’t give a fuck if someone sees because right now I just really fucking need to come.”

That worked. Jamie’s pupils were blown wide and her hand tightened a bit at Dani’s throat. “Turn,” her voice was raspy, “the fuck around. Face the truck.”

 _Yes. Fuck._ Dani did, and immediately Jamie’s hands were reaching around, unbuttoning her shorts, tearing them down her legs.

“Hands on the truck,” Jamie said, “feet apart—fuck, just look at you—”

Dani could only imagine how she looked, prone and wanting in the middle of the day on top of a cliff. She was too far gone to even pretend to care.

Jamie was behind her and she grasped Dani’s hips, pulled her back against herself, sliding her hands over Dani’s skin. She slid one hand up Dani’s spine and kept the other at her hip, and this time when she pulled Dani against herself she thrust into her on a whispered _fuck_.

Dani was ready to jump out of her skin with want. She let her head fall forward, resting the crown of her head against the truck and whining.

Jamie ghosted her hand over Dani’s center, hissing when she felt how wet Dani was but retreating, bringing her hand back to Dani’s hip and thrusting into her again.

“Jamie—” Dani was starting to lose her mind and the next time Jamie thrusted she pushed back, grinding her ass into Jamie’s crotch.

“Christ the things I’m gonna do to you,” Jamie’s fingers dug into her hip, leaving marks. “Gonna fuck you so hard—”

“ _Jamie_ —"

Jamie’s fingers slid into her from behind, taking Dani by surprise and wrenching a sob from her chest. _Fuck._ Every time. It was so fucking good every time.

Jamie’s pace was relentless, holding Dani in place with one hand while her other hand was busy pumping her fingers into her, the quiet day offering not a single sound to cover up the wet smacking.

“Fuck yes,” Dani could hear the whine in her voice, knew she sounded every bit as desperate and wound as she was.

“Tell me how good it feels—”

“So good—always so good—“

“Fuck, you’re drenchin’ my hand—"

And that was when Dani did it. Embraced a sudden impulse, chose bravery and trusted that Jamie would still be there on the other side. She wrenched out of Jamie’s grasp and turned around to face her, relishing the stunned look on Jamie’s face. Dani arched an eyebrow. “Get on your fucking knees.” She swallowed and watched Jamie’s eyes turn black.

“What’d you just say?”

“You heard me.”

Dani had expected a fight, expected Jamie to push back, remind her that they were playing by Jamie’s rules this time. And Dani had been ready for that, she’d been ready to fight Jamie for control. But Jamie just dropped straight down like her knees were made of lead, never taking her eyes off of Dani’s. She leaned in, practically moving in slow motion, and opened her mouth wide against Dani’s heat. Dani spread her legs farther apart, leaned all her weight against the truck and dug her fingers into Jamie’s hair.

 _Fuck._ This was new and unexpected. And hot. Dani had rather thought that darkened bedrooms were the place to experiment, maybe after a drink or two, make a suggestion or voice a request that was just a little too bold to drag out in the harsh light of day. But she’d been wrong. Standing there with sea air all around and the summer sun shining on the scene below, making everything bright and shadowless, it was so much better than a darkened room. There was nothing sultry or sensual about it, it was sex in its most basic form—it was raw and it was desperate, just Dani, out of her mind with need, fucking Jamie’s mouth, desperate to come. Every now and then Jamie’s eyes would slide up to meet hers and a sharp stab of heat would go straight to Dani’s clit because Jamie really _was_ so fucking hot and so fucking good at this and it never got old, Dani was starting to think maybe it never would get old, and that thought was dizzying. The thought that Jamie was hers and they could do this forever. 

The sudden role reversal was doing amazing things to Dani. Really good things. Jamie wasn’t even using her hands, they were limp at her sides as she let Dani set the pace, keep the control.

“Fuck,” Dani said, because honestly what else is there to say when your gorgeous girlfriend is devouring your clit and giving you a look like she’s daring you to thrust harder. “Yeah,” she whispered, “fucking suck it.” Well. There was that. She’d thought about saying stuff like that, thought about it a lot actually, ever since that first night when Jamie called her a _good girl._ But now she’d actually gone and said it out loud and _fuck_ if Jamie wasn’t looking up at her like she’d just descended from the sky on a golden sunbeam.

Jamie slid her hands up Dani’s legs, raked her fingers down her thighs and jammed her tongue up into Dani so suddenly and forcefully that Dani’s head slammed back against the truck and she saw stars. She recovered quickly, grabbing Jamie’s head, tugging on her hair, trying to angle her pelvis so Jamie could get her tongue in deeper, pulling Jamie in, grinding against her mouth and Jamie was just _letting_ her, like she knew Dani needed this, needed to be in control.

When Jamie switched back to mouthing her clit, sucking it and dragging her tongue against it, Dani started to lose her mind. Her legs started shaking and it didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who smirked against her, smiled up at her with a dark look in her eye.

“Oh my God,” Dani said, “Jamie, _fuck_ —” Her back was sliding down the side of the truck in her efforts to fuse herself against Jamie’s mouth. She had two fistfuls of Jamie’s hair and she just kept thrusting her pelvis into her face as Jamie held on for the ride, letting Dani take what she needed.

It was cresting, building, and just when she reached the top of the wave, teetered at the top, Jamie pressed her tongue hard against her clit, dragged it down the length of her tongue and Dani’s eyes rolled back so hard she was certain she was staring at the back of her own skull as her entire body started to shake.

“Fuck,” she ground out, forcing herself to look down, watch Jamie because that always made it so much better, “fuck, I’m coming—" And _Jesus Christ_ it might have been the hardest she’d ever come, it was like a fucking tsunami, the way everything inside of her had receded just before only to come back with unrelenting force, pulsing out from the central spot where Jamie was still latched on to her.

Jamie held her legs tight, maybe because she could tell that Dani was on the brink of collapsing, and then she pulled back slightly, keeping her mouth open so that Dani had to manually hold her head in place to thrust and draw out the high and Dani did exactly that, sobs and curses falling freely the entire time.

The mind-bending pleasure started to subside and Dani came back to herself gasping for air, still shaking. She sank to her knees in the tall grass, face to face with Jamie, desperate to kiss her but Jamie stopped her by grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back with just enough force to surprise her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jamie said, like it was the only possible thing she could say after _that_. She was knelt up slightly taller so she could look down at Dani, still holding her head in place as she searched her entire face with eyebrows raised, smiling wide, shocked and delighted in equal measure.

Dani felt a grin tugging at her mouth, tried to keep her lips closed over her teeth but it was a losing battle. She was fucking _proud._ Give her a mortarboard and a fucking diploma because she’d just graduated to a new level of sex.

Finally Jamie loosened her grip on Dani, slid both hands to cup Dani’s jaw, suddenly gentle and reverent as she kissed her. A moment later she took Dani’s hand, guiding it down the front of her shorts, bucking her hips a little like it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. And Dani considered it—considered stroking her, finishing her off right there in the grass as they kissed. But today was for better things.

Dani stood suddenly and Jamie blinked up at her, seemingly both excited and thrown by Dani’s sudden confidence. Dani opened the door to the truck’s backseat and sat on the edge, legs dangling out the open door, feet in the grass. She beckoned Jamie over, amused when Jamie scrambled toward her, moving faster than Dani had ever seen her move before.

  
She had Jamie naked from the waist down in ten seconds, and then she was pulling Jamie into the truck, pulling her on top of herself as she slowly reclined, laying down along the backseat.

There was just enough room on the backseat for Jamie to have a knee on either side of Dani, and Dani encouraged her— _manhandled_ her, really—until she was straddling Dani’s collarbone, eyes drifting to Dani’s lips.

Dani smiled. “What do you want?”

Jamie let out a laugh that almost sounded nervous. “Think you know.”

“Think I want to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dani nuzzled the inside of her thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth.”

“What about my mouth?”

“Dani—“ She still seemed nervous, like she didn’t know how far she could take it. But Dani wanted it all. Raw and real. She wanted Jamie to understand what she was wordlessly trying to tell her—that this was where they were now, that it was okay to lose control. But Jamie would never, unless she knew it wasn’t one-sided. That every explicit moan and filthy word did just as much for Dani. That seeing Jamie completely undone could easily make her come untouched.

“I’ll tell you what _I_ want,” Dani said, bringing Jamie’s hand to her lips and sucking in two of her fingers as Jamie watched, eyelids heavy with lust. “I want you to fuck my mouth and I want to hear you the whole,” she kissed her palm, “fucking,” she bit the inside of her wrist, “time. Don’t hold back. Can you do that for me?”

Jamie’s eyes were on Dani’s lips. She swallowed and her lips started moving but it took a moment for words to find their way out. “I can do that, yeah.” She ran the fingers that had been in Dani’s mouth over Dani’s lips, leaving a shine in their wake. All traces of hesitation were gone as Jamie shifted closer, positioning herself over Dani’s face. Her eyes were practically black again and she ran a gentle hand over Dani’s forehead and hair before whispering, “O-open your mouth. Like that, yeah—fuckkkk, yeah.”

Dani flattened her tongue against Jamie’s center. She was already soaking wet, her clit was stiff and nudging against Dani’s top lip. Jamie moved to brace herself against the car window with one hand and let the other tangle into Dani’s hair. She angled her pelvis and then it was her clit slowly rubbing up and down the length of Dani’s tongue, a drawn out moan coming from somewhere deep in Jamie’s chest. 

Dani pulled away for a second and Jamie’s hips chased after her frantically. Dani put a hand on her hip bone to stop her, laughing softly. “You’re supposed to be talking me through this.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” the side of Jamie’s mouth pulled up in a wry smile, “hard to think straight when I’m this fuckin’ turned on. Blood’s not exactly goin’ the direction of my brain.”

Dani bit her lip and sent Jamie a look she hoped was smoldering before opening her mouth against her once more.

“Oh fuckkkkk,” Jamie’s head fell back on a relieved groan, then fell forward to watch her clit move against Dani’s tongue. “Fuck. So fucking good, you feel so fucking good, fuck,” her hand slid around the back of Dani’s head, cradling it as she set her pace above, gasps and moans falling freely. Dani could feel Jamie’s hips straining on every stroke, desperately trying to sink her clit deeper into Dani’s mouth. Dani stiffened her tongue, plunged it into Jamie’s center, then let it bump against her bundle of nerves as Jamie rolled her hips back and forth.

Jamie swore at the change in tactic, her fingers tightening in Dani’s hair. “Fuck, Dani—“ Her legs were already starting to shake and her pupils were blown wide as she looked down into Dani’s eyes. “Fuck, feel what you’re doin’ to me, I’m so fuckin’ hard—“

Dani’s own eyes rolled back on a groan. Jamie’s hips sped up and her eyes started to glaze over. Through a haze of euphoria Dani wondered if she had any idea how devastatingly gorgeous she was like this. She’d tell her after, she’d make sure to, and she could already see Jamie brushing off the compliment even as her cheeks tinged pink.

Jamie’s fingers were clutching tighter at the back of Dani’s head, and when Dani made eye contact and flattened her tongue wide for Jamie to ride to completion, all semblance of control was gone. Jamie grabbed a fistful of Dani’s hair and held tight, holding her head in place so she could fuck her, hard. She was loud now, filthy words falling nonsensically from her lips, her eyes locked on Dani’s face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ she was thrusting into Dani’s mouth, totally on the edge when she seemed to notice that Dani’s eyes were watering, and suddenly her hand was out of Dani’s hair and covering her own mouth.

“Shit—“

“What? What’s wrong?”

“What’s—I practically fuckin’ scalped you—” She swiped her thumb across Dani’s cheek. “Got lost for a moment there.”

Dani leaned up expectantly, but it took a minute for Jamie to realize she was waiting to be kissed. Jamie leaned down, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her softly.

“Did I hurt you?” She breathed against Dani’s mouth.

“I’m not fragile,” Dani pulled back to look at Jamie’s eyes, “I’m not going to break.”

She lay back down and took Jamie’s hand, placing it back behind her head, in her hair. And just in case that wasn’t clear enough, she arched an eyebrow at Jamie, then pulled her hips back toward her face. Jamie was smiling like she couldn’t quite believe how amazing the woman beneath her was, and all Dani wanted to do was prove her right. Make it perfect for her. She urged Jamie’s hips to resume their relentless pace and within a minute Jamie was mindless again, cursing and fucking her with wild abandon, fist tight in Dani’s hair.

She was staring at Dani’s mouth, her jaw hanging slightly open, a look of wonder on her face like watching her own clit fucking against Dani’s tongue, hard and hot, was the best thing she’d ever seen. Her eyes were glazed and she curled over Dani, clutching her head as she writhed on her face. Her other palm had been flat against the window but suddenly her fingers were grabbing at the ceiling, at the door frame, anything she could grip.

“Dani—gonna make me come—fuck I’m gonna come in your perfect fuckin’ mouth—oh fuck, oh fuck—“ She thrust once, twice and then the third time she shoved her clit as far into Dani’s mouth as she could manage and froze, her arm straining against the ceiling, her head bowed forward, looking at Dani as her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. It was all Dani could do to hold on to Jamie’s hips as she shuddered through her nuclear bomb of an orgasm, flooding Dani’s mouth and leaving evidence of her pleasure on Dani’s lips, which she leaned down and licked away long moments later when she finally started to come down.

Jamie rested her forehead against Dani’s, eyes closed, nose to nose as her breathing evened out. Finally she opened her eyes and kissed Dani’s cheek, her nose, the corner of her mouth. 

“That was—“

“I love you.” Dani stunned herself by saying it, the words had practically sprung out of her on their own.

Jamie pulled back, searching Dani’s eyes, a slight furrow in her brow. For once, Dani wasn’t anxious or worried she’d said the wrong thing. It was the truth, and Jamie needed to know.

“You sure that’s not the incredible sex talkin’?”

“I’m sure.”

“Cause that was mind blowin’ and my brain’s a fuckin’ puddle at the moment, so if you—“

Dani put a finger against Jamie’s mouth. “I love you. You don’t need to say it back right now. Or ever, if you—there’s no rush, is all I’m saying. But that’s where I am. In love. With you.”

Jamie just looked at her, a soft smile on her face. She blinked a couple times before leaning back down to kiss Dani again, slowly and purposefully as the afternoon breeze rustled through the tall grass outside the open truck door, the sound of waves distant and peaceful.

Later, after they’d finally gotten the tent in place, after Dani had spent a good part of a walk down to the beach collecting wildflowers, after a shorter walk to the main building to buy firewood and food, they sat by the flickering campfire as the sun went down.

At one point Dani went into the tent to put on a sweatshirt and she came across the check she’d packed away in her suitcase. She’d brought it so that she could show Jamie. Talk to her about it. At the _end_ of the trip, she’d thought, when returning to real life was already inevitable. But she stared down at the white envelope for several moments, wondering if maybe today was the day to throw _everything_ on the table. Embrace her newfound confidence and tell Jamie exactly what was on her mind.

She put the envelope in her sweatshirt’s pocket and left the tent to find Jamie bent over a pot of canned stew from the campground’s store, stirring it as it simmered over the fire.

“Could really use Owen’s particular skill set right about now,” Jamie said, peering closer to inspect the stew and cringing. “’S a good job he’ll be here tomorrow. Hopefully this shite doesn’t kill us first,” she shook her head and put the lid back on the pot.

Dani took a seat on the picnic table, huddled into her sweatshirt with her feet resting on the seat.

“Don’t think I won’t put you to work just ‘cause it’s your birthday,” Jamie said over her shoulder. “There’s bread in there,” she pointed at the paper bag next to Dani, “reckon you can skewer it and toast it, like. Make it slightly more appetizin’.”

Dani found a stick and skewered the bread, joining Jamie by the fire. When the bread was toasted Dani set out paper plates and napkins before sitting back down on the table, facing the fire and staring at Jamie’s back. Wondering how she’d take what Dani had to say.

A short while later Jamie set the pot of stew on the table. “Chef’s apologies,” she said, “not quite certain it’s edible.”

Dani reached behind herself where she’d stashed the bouquet she’d collected earlier and handed it to Jaime. Jaime stood there, smiling sweetly before taking her time naming each and every flower.

“Show off,” Dani laughed, before looking past Jamie into the flames, summoning her courage for the second time that day. “Remember,” she started, not quite ready to look Jamie in the eye, “when you said the Wingraves were strangleweed and I was a wildflower?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jamie nod.

“I think you were wrong.” She did look at Jamie then, and Jamie had the slightest crease in her brow, listening closely. “You’ve never told me why Frank was raising you, but I’m guessing there’s a story there and maybe not a happy one, and I hope you’ll tell me one day—if you want—”

Jamie nodded again.

“And I don’t know everything about where you went after Frank died but I do know it wasn’t your choice and it wasn’t…it wasn’t good. And you don’t talk much about when you were in prison and that’s okay, I don’t need you to tell me unless you want to, but I know it was—I know it was fucking horrible and I hate that you went through that, and—God, I didn’t mean to cry, I’m not—I’m just, I’m _angry_ that it happened to you but I’m not trying to—it’s not about me,” she swiped at her eyes, embarrassed, “I just—do you know? Do you know how amazing it is that you survived all that? That you fought back against the world and all its unfairness and became this fucking _incredible_ person?”

Jamie slowly raised a shoulder.

“You are,” Dani said firmly, nodding and letting the stupid tears fall freely, “you are incredible. So like I said I think you were wrong about me being a wildflower. Wildflowers bloom where they’re planted, against all odds. And that’s you. You’re the wildflower.”

Jamie’s smile was soft. “Reckon we can both be wildflowers, if you like.”

Dani ran the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her face, then took the envelope out of her pocket. Laid it across her knees.

“What’s this?” Jamie asked.

“The first part of the inheritance,” Dani said. “Open it.”

Jamie kept her eyes on Dani as she did, only glancing down at the check once she’d unfolded it in front of her. She didn’t react to the number, but her eyes flicked back to Dani’s once she’d seen it, then she was handing the check back.

“I’m thinking about finally doing it,” Dani said. “Starting a business.”

“As well you should,” Jamie toed the ground with her boot. “About bloody time you left everythin’ in the rearview. And with that ridiculous check right there you can build a fuckin’ empire. Be a CEO by next week, if you like. Have pointless meetin’s at a long table with thirty board members all tremblin’ at the sight of you.” Her hands were shoved into her pockets and her shoulders were tense, scrunched towards her neck like she was stuck in a perpetual shrug. Dani had seen that look on her before. It was her resignation stance. And it slowly dawned on Dani that this incredible, wonderful, brilliant, life-changing woman standing before her thought that this was the beginning of goodbye. That _she_ was part of the past that Dani would leave behind.

“You’re right,” Dani said, holding the check up and shaking her head at it, “this is a ridiculous amount of money. And I could build an empire.”

Jamie stuck her lip out, nodding, avoiding Dani’s eyes.

“Problem is, I’m not sure what kind of empire I want to build. I mean I know I _said_ I want to create something that gives back to the world instead of taking, but when it comes down to it that’s easier said than done. I mean there are ways—clean energy is big right now, and there’s plenty of goldmines under that umbrella. Technology, transport, communications…so many possibilities, but all things I know next to nothing about.”

“Gotta find yourself a team who does know, I reckon. Doubt Wingrave the First knew much about the actual mechanics of coal minin’ when he first started out."

“You know I’m glad to hear you say that, I was actually thinking the same thing. About finding a team.”

“There you go then.”

“Except I don’t think I want a big team. Or board meetings or even an empire, really. I’m more of a small boutique kind of girl. Family owned, mom and pop kind of store.”

“I’m sure whatever you end up choosin’—"

“Plants.”

Jamie finally looked at her. “Plants?”

“I mean, not _just_ plants, flowers too, and eventually even landscaping maybe? But small—a small shop. With plants. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a dream. Actually if I’m being honest it feels a bit like you’re rubbin’ your newfound fortune in my face at the moment, are you tryin’ to make me jealous?”

“I’m trying to make you an offer.” Dani let a slow smile bloom on her face, waiting for the penny to drop. “Like you said, I’ll need a team who knows about gardening. Or a teammate, at least.”

Jamie, who was rarely flustered and usually seemed at least a little bit smug, looked absolutely dumbfounded. She stared at Dani for a long moment, her eyes wide. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before words finally came out.

“Are you askin’ to go into business with me?”

“Partners. An even split, everything fifty fifty, starting with this,” she held up the check. “I’ll run the business end. You’ll run the gardening end.”

Jamie was looking at the ground again with a slight furrow in her brow. Her hands were still deep in her pockets and Dani couldn’t read her. She started to worry that maybe this wasn’t the sort of thing Jamie would want at all, that maybe somehow she’d even managed to offend her.

But then Jamie looked up with her cheeky half smile and quirked eyebrow. “London?”

Dani beamed. “Actually I was thinking Vermont. For a year, at least. Enough time to see all the seasons. Eventually we could open shops in other places too. New York and Paris even, if…if you wanted…sorry, does this mean you’re saying yes? Not that you need to say yes immediately, I mean if you want to think about it first or need me to draw up a business model before you commit then that’s totally—”

“Yes.” Her hands found their way to Dani’s cheeks and her thumb brushed along her cheekbone. “My answer is yes. To bein’ partners, to openin’ a shop. To movin’ in together, preferably above said shop.”

“I didn’t…did I say move in together?”

“You didn’t, no, but see, that’s _my_ business model. Mixin’ business and pleasure. Doubtless there’ll be nights where I’m in desperate need of your gorgeous…spreadsheets…and I can’t imagine it’d be very efficient if you weren’t at my beck and call.”

“I see.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

“I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of efficiency.”

And then they were kissing, smiling and laughing and deliriously happy as the pot of stew went forgotten, growing cold on the picnic table.

The kisses grew longer, the atmosphere seemed to shift, and after one particularly purposeful and lengthy kiss Jamie pulled back to look in Dani’s eyes.

“I love you too.”

Dani felt a slow smile pulling at her cheeks. “You do?”

Jamie was nodding. “For a long time, actually.” She raised a shoulder, scrunched an eye. “Twelve years, if I’m bein’ honest. Maybe longer.”

Dani glanced at the check. “Are you sure this isn’t the money talking, because—”

“Shut it,” Jamie said with a smirk, covering Dani’s smile with another kiss.

***

Dani didn’t sleep much that night, and it wasn’t the scratchy sleeping bags or the wind that began to howl, blowing in from the water and raging against the cliffs, whistling its way through the tall grass. It wasn’t even the fact that camping, it turned out, was not actually all she’d envisioned, which probably had everything to do with how they’d gone to bed early and hungry—they had plans to go to the shops first thing to buy lanterns and junk food.

She didn’t sleep because she was _excited_. She could barely wait for the sun to rise, eager for a morning with Jamie and a day, a _week_ , with friends. The last time she’d been excited like this she’d been seven years old, about to turn eight, waiting for the morning light to see her brand new treehouse. In many ways it was like her life had paused that day. Dani, eight years old and stuttering to a stop, waiting for the world to make sense again before she took another step.

Jamie twitched in her sleep, scrunching her nose. “The squirrels are wearin’ hats.” She shifted and her arm came up by Dani’s head. “Gonna pet their tails.”

Dani kissed her elbow then settled back against the pillow, smiling up at the tent’s ceiling as the wind whipped by outside. The world was making a lot more sense these days.

Dani Clayton, twenty-seven years old and finally ready to _live._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue coming soon.


	14. Chapter 14

**Burlington, Vermont, 18 Months Later**

The snowstorm began with tiny flecks drifting lazily from the gray sky above. By early evening the tiny flecks had become enormous clumps that fell heavily like cotton balls, covering all downtown in a blanket of soft white. The weather stations were predicting at least three feet, maybe more, but the impending blizzard hadn’t slowed the locals down at all. If anything there was an energy that accompanied Vermont snowstorms—the land and its people were _made_ for snow. They relished it. From the window of the shop Dani could see their neighbor Eli helping their elderly landlord chain her tires. A couple of kids were collecting snow from the sidewalk and throwing it at each other, squealing and chasing and ignoring their mother who was clearly aggravated at their lack of proper snow attire.

The kettle sounded in the back of the store—it had been Jamie’s idea to serve patrons cocoa throughout the winter season, give a little incentive for shoppers who stopped in less frequently during the winter months. Dani went and made herself a mug, returning to watch the snow as the cocoa’s steam warmed her face.

The streetlamps came on, their warm glow illuminating the falling flakes. It looked like the postcards they sold down the street at the general store. The postcard Dani had sent to Edmund in reply to the one he’d sent from Nepal, where he was currently at a basecamp near Everest, considering staying another year to train for a climb.

Dani leaned against the frame of The Leafling’s large bay window, taking it all in. They’d been in Vermont for over a year now, the Leafling would turn one in the spring. But this was their first real blizzard, and Dani felt like she’d be content to stand there and watch the snow all night.

Just then someone banged on the door, jarring Dani from the peaceful moment. The person banged again, using their foot because their arms were full, a massive blue sled resting precariously atop an even larger package. Dani opened the door and a gust of snow blew into the shop.

“Sorry, we’re—” _closed_ , she was about to say, but then she recognized the boots. “Whose hat is that?” She stepped aside and let Jamie in, helping her with the pile in her arms.

“Bought it at the general,” she grinned, her nose and cheeks delightfully red. “Like it?”

“It has ear flaps.”

“’S what they wear in these parts,” she said, unwrapping her scarf and shaking the snow off.

“Who?” Dani took her coat from her. “Who have you seen wearing one of these?”

“Eli.”

“Eli? Our neighbor who butchers roadkill and freezes it so he’ll have meat all winter?”

“Our neighbor who’s both stylish _and_ resourceful,” Jamie said, hauling up the massive package onto the front counter.

“We need to go on another trip, see some more of the world before you go full lumberjack on me. Seriously, by this time next year you’ll have grown a beard and be living in the woods, soldering your own maple taps and whittling yourself an army of miniature owls.”

“And huntin’ rabbits with my teeth.” Jamie pulled off her boots, clumps of ice falling all over the shop floor.

Dani filled a second mug of cocoa and handed it to Jamie. “So what’s all this?”

“Glad you asked, because this, Dani, is a _sled,_ ” Jamie picked up the front end and tapped the plastic with her finger, “and tomorrow we’re gonna have ourselves a day with it.”

Dani smiled. Jamie had been talking about sledding for a year now but every time Dani had attempted to buy her a sled at the general Jamie would always insist it wasn’t the right kind. She had a specific sort of sled in mind that she was convinced went faster than the rest. Apparently they’d finally had it in stock.

Dani eyed the package on the countertop. “And this monstrosity?” She asked, going around behind the counter to peek at the label on the package. It was huge—the size of a small kitchen table, and heavy, she realized, as she lifted it to find the return address. “The WoodShop,” she read aloud. “United Kingdom?” She looked at Jamie who was leaning against the opposite side of the counter, a soft look on her face.

“We talked about getting a proper sign, yeah?”

Dani nodded slowly. She’d been the one to bring it up—the idea of a hanging sign in addition to the gold and white decal on the front window. Maybe it was because she’d grown up in Bly where it was commonplace, but there was something cozy about a shop with a hanging sign, she’d said, and Jamie had agreed with a grin and a kiss.

“Wanna hand me the box knife?” Jamie asked, pointing at the drawer behind the counter.

Dani obliged and watched as Jamie carefully cut away the carboard, revealing a well-wrapped rectangle. Jamie carefully unwrapped it, layers of bubble wrap and foam falling to the floor. Finally Jamie pulled the last of the wrapping away and beamed at what she saw, then used her knee to hoist the sign around to show Dani.

It appeared to be made of three planks of reclaimed wood—all weathered and rough at the edges. It fit the store’s rustic chic aesthetic, as did the iron letters fastened to the front, spelling out the store’s name in slanted cursive.

“Oh my God, Jamie! It’s _perfect,_ ” Dani ran a hand along the letters as Jamie pulled out an iron bracket from the box along with two small chains.

“Do you recognize it?” Jamie asked, working to attach the chains to the bracket.

Dani looked at her. “Recognize what?”

“The sign.” Jamie had that shy smirk on her face like she had something up her sleeve and she wouldn’t look at Dani, she just kept fiddling with the bracket.

Dani glanced back at the sign. It was beautiful, the craftmanship was excellent and it was exactly the sort of thing she would’ve picked out on her own but she wasn’t sure what Jamie was asking her. “No? What do you mean?”

Jamie set the bracket down and moved the box to the floor so she could rest her elbows on the counter, her chin resting on her folded hands as she looked up at Dani. “It seemed wrong leavin’ it to rot out there. And I have Frank’s rose,” she nodded to the dried rose hanging on the back wall, the one Miles and Flora had given Dani to give to Jamie, “so I thought you should have a piece of them here too.”

Dani looked at her, gave the slightest shake of her head because she wasn’t following.

“It’s your treehouse. Part of it, anyway.”

Dani’s heart stuttered. She looked at the wood. Looked back at Jamie. “Are you serious?”

Jamie was watching her like she was nervous she’d done the wrong thing. “Know it’s a bit heavy, literally and metaphorically,” she huffed out a little laugh, still looking uncomfortable, “know the associations aren't exactly cheerful, but. Felt too important to leave behind, yeah? And if you don’t wanna hang it, if that doesn’t feel right, we don’t need to put it up—”

“Jamie,” Dani waited until Jamie looked her in the eyes again, “I _love_ it.” Leave it to Jamie to do something outrageously wonderful, only to nervously back track.

“Yeah?”

“Yes! It’s perfect, I can’t believe you thought to do this—well, no, actually I _can_ ,” Dani went around the counter to hug her. “I love it,” she whispered again, against Jamie’s neck.

“Good, ‘cause I had ten of them made,” Jamie said.

Dani pulled back and found Jamie smirking.

“Ten?”

“For when we open more stores,” Jamie shrugged a shoulder and Dani hugged her again, this time even tighter. “Oh, one more thing—” Jamie pulled back, reaching into her coat pocket.

Dani didn’t have time to fully process before a gigantic snowball was being brought down on top of her head. Jamie, giggling and clearly thrilled with herself, had backed halfway across the shop like she was anticipating immediate retaliation. Dani shook the snow from her hair and calmly turned on her heel, heading for the stairway that led up to their apartment.

“Dani?” Jamie called after her.

Dani looked back over her shoulder at the bottom step. “Hmm?”

“Where you goin?”

“To get my boots and coat and stuff.”

“Why?”

“Because I spent every winter in Boston growing up so I’m kind of an honorary New Englander and you have no idea what kind of wrath you’ve just incurred.” Dani sent her a sympathetic grimace. “If I were you I’d start making a snowball arsenal or I’d start running.”

Upstairs Dani got ready quickly and was about to clomp back down the stairs when her hand went into her coat pocket to pull out her gloves and her fingers bumped against something else. There was another pocket inside, a pocket within a pocket, and she’d hidden something in there a week earlier. It had started several months before that, when Jamie had gone down to New York for a gardening convention and Dani had stayed behind to run the shop. On her second night being home alone Dani had succumbed to curiosity and she’d opened the third and final letter.

_Danielle,  
  
Our last request is perhaps the simplest, and yet the most important. This world, though brilliantly exciting and endlessly interesting, can also be cold and cruel. If you are reading this letter then this is a lesson you’ve already learned, and the mere notion of your suffering has brought us to tears, even as we write these words. We would shield you from it all if we could, but strength and courage you do not lack, and we are comforted by the knowledge that you will not sit and take life’s unfairness._

  
  
Dani’s breath caught and she read the line again. _You will not sit and take life’s unfairness_. She read it over and over. It had to be a coincidence. It had to be. Frank wrote that entry in his journal after they’d died, and these letters had been sealed. Then again in a world where flowers can be hand delivered from beyond, maybe words like coincidence were shortsighted placeholders. _You will not sit and take life’s unfairness._ The echoed words caught in her chest, hummed there, electric and warm. 

  
  
_If you only take one letter of ours to heart let it be this one. Let it be known that this is our greatest desire for you because it is far more worthy a pursuit than knowledge and far more lasting a journey than physical adventure. Seek love, Dani. Seek it fearlessly and seek it hopefully. Your capacity for love is staggering, we’ve known this since you were a toddler and Edmund fell down the stairs and YOU were the one who cried, the one who went to him and held him. Who rubbed his little back with your tiny hand. A heart like yours should seek out its equal—another soul capable of loving wholly in return. Someone you can stand back to back against the world with by day, and fall easily into heaps of laughter and simple quietude with at night. We want you to find a love absent of expectation, obligation and manipulation. A love that sets you free._

_And when you find this person, whoever he or she might be—_

  
  
Dani’s head had lightened, her knees weakened. She’d practically collapsed onto the edge of the bed, staring at those words. _Whoever he or she might be_. She’d almost made it through all three letters without shedding a tear. Reading them had ached a little, like pressing a finger into a healing bruise. She missed them, but it was just an ache now. And it was healing. But that sentence, that glorious sentence, was her undoing. Whoever he or _she_ might be. She set the letter aside, let her head fall to her hands, let herself fold over, sobbing into her knees. She hadn’t even known she’d needed to hear that from them but oh, how deeply she had. How different her life would have been if she’d read these letters as a child, the way her parents had planned. But then, she thought, sniffling and collecting herself. Looking around the room at the fresh flowers she woke up to on a regular basis, the framed photographs from trips to Iceland and Croatia, and all the empty wall space for more. But then. Maybe things had unfolded exactly as they were meant to.

  
  
_And when you find this person, whoever he or she might be—cherish every moment as we cherished every moment we spent together, as we also cherished every moment spent with you. Tomorrow is never guaranteed, and one day at a time is all we ever really have. The rest of the inheritance is yours, no documents or prerequisites required, just present this letter to the bank. It’s a large sum, the largest yet, and we know you’ll use it for good. But more important than the money is the small velvet bag that will accompany the check you’re given. We told you once when you were small but we’ll remind you now—our engagement ring had been passed down from Clayton to Clayton for well over a century, but when it got to us we found it to be a garish and flashy thing so we decided to halve it—cut the diamond down to a more sensible size. Half of it will remain on your mother’s finger for eternity, and the other half we give to you. When you find your equal, your best friend, the person you cannot live without, you’ll know what to do._

_We miss you, Dani. Gone though we may be, we miss and love you still. And one day, a great many years from now, perhaps we’ll find each other again, in whatever comes next. What a magnificent thing to imagine._

_  
Until then, seek love. Because you, our darling daughter, deserve to be loved. Fiercely and wonderfully._   
  


_Love forever, M &D_

A month after reading the letter Dani had flown back to England under the guise of visiting Hannah and Owen, and this time it was Jamie who stayed behind to mind the shop. Dani _did_ visit Hannah and Owen, but she also visited the bank one last time, and as she flew back across the Atlantic she did so with a velvet drawstring bag in her coat’s pocket. A small marquise-cut diamond, the jeweler in Vermont had explained when she’d brought it to him a month after that. Surely a coincidence, Dani mused, that it just happened to resemble a leaf.

The ring she commissioned was delicate and simple. A platinum hoop, vaguely reminiscent of a stem that came together to hold the diamond between two leaves, subtle, almost impossible to notice unless you looked closely. Dani had been specific with the jeweler—it shouldn’t resemble a flower (too tacky) and it shouldn’t resemble a weed (for obvious reasons). _A vine, then_? The jeweler had asked, and _yes_ , Dani had answered, thinking it over, that was exactly it. Something that grew stronger with time, something that could climb up and over obstacles, something that made everything it touched more beautiful, more interesting. A vine was it exactly.

Dani clomped back down the stairs, tying her scarf around her neck, pulling her knit hat onto her head. She stopped short on the bottom step. Jamie was standing just outside the front door, a large snowball in each hand and a massive pile of them on the ground beside her. When she saw Dani she sent her a wide, red-cheeked grin from under the ridiculous ear flap hat. Dani’s heart swelled and her hand drifted to her pocket. To where the little box was safely tucked away.

But today wasn’t the day. Today was for an impromptu snowball fight that Dani was going to absolutely destroy her in. Today was for an incredible gift—half treehouse, half hanging sign. Half keepsake, half new beginning. To bring the box out now, spurred by the tide of overwhelming love and affection and gratitude would feel too much like an exchange. A this for that. And Dani had lived that life already—safety for loyalty. Family for obligation. She touched the little box once more, then took her hand from her pocket. Soon. There would be a day, a night, a morning—a moment with their names on it. A moment when she couldn’t wait any longer.

And, Dani thought, when the ring did finally slip on to its intended finger it would be everything the shackle she’d once worn was not. Not a tether, but a tendril. A promise, alive and flourishing. And they would see where that would take them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, thank you for making my first venture into fic writing so worthwhile. Your interest and encouragement has made me smile time and time again over the last month. Thanks for joining me on this little journey as we all attempt to work our way through the mindfuck that Bly Manor left us with. All due respect to those guys, but I think all the happier endings on here are better.  
> I said I'd only write one, I meant I'd only write one, but I think what I really meant was I'd write one and then I'd write one more. So yeah. Gear up for some AU old west outlaw shite (coming very soon) because apparently the lesbian spirits require one more story before quieting.


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